Silver and Gold
by Quicksilver the Archangel
Summary: In his search for a way to destroy his brother, Muraki discovers that there is a certain man named Watari who may be able to help him... (NOT MurakiWatari oO)
1. Chapter One

Silver and Gold  
  
By: Quicksilver the Archangel  
  
Disclaimer: I, quite obviously, do not own any of the characters in Yami no Matsuei.  
  
Warning: This fanfiction will probably use foul language, blood, violence, and shonen-ai. Pairings will be TsuzukixHisoka and MurakixTsuzuki. However, these pairings are not the main focus of the story.  
  
Author's Note: This story is in first person, switching between the characters. I will try my best to make the changes of POV obvious. Events take place after Episode 13 of the anime; I have not, unfortunately, read all of the manga, so I may be screwing up with a set story line from there. As the title implies, Watari and Muraki have the major roles in this story, though the other main characters will be involved. Please bear with me. Finally... all responses are appreciated. This is my very first Yami no Matusei story, and I've spent quite a bit of time coming up with the concept. I only hope I have the writing skills to master it. Helpful comments are encouraged; pointless flames will be ignored.  
  
' indicates thoughts  
  
//\\ indicates character whose POV the story is from at the time  
  
//Watari\\  
  
"Oi... Watari, are you sure this is the way?"  
  
Normally, having someone doubt me like this would upset me. However, as I know only too well, Tsuzuki is not a normal person. Knowing him, he would be questioning me even if he knew I was the only one who knew the way to a secret cave far beneath the sea. Something about him makes him unable to tolerate things in silence; I suppose it is just his way of keeping his nerves from getting too jittery. I turn to my good friend, giving him a smile, "Now, now Tsuzuki... don't you think it's rather rude to be questioning your guide?"  
  
"But I'm hungry; you dragged us out here without time to even grab lunch!"  
  
Ah, so THAT is what's the matter with him! Poor Tsuzuki, even I know better than to keep him from his three square meals a day, all of which, I may add, have ample portions of dessert thrown into them. Of course, if one begins to calculate all of the sugar intake that he gains from his many sugary snacks, it's no surprise that he cannot tolerate to stand still for any long period of time.  
  
I bite the corner of my cheek to keep from laughing as Hisoka scolds his partner, "Shut up, will you? All you ever think about is your stomach! Don't you think this case is a LITTLE more important?"  
  
"But Hisoka..."  
  
"Don't you BUT me!"  
  
As they break off into one of their arguments, I take the opportunity to study them both. Really, every time I think about it, I can see why people think they would never get along. Everything about the two of them is different.  
  
Take Tsuzuki. A tall, beautiful man with chocolate brown hair and amethyst eyes, it is easy enough to see why everyone who meets him is immediately stunned. Then, their attraction becomes doubled once they begin to spend time with him. Despite his own pains and anxieties, he puts on a perpetual cheer that few can strip from him. His deep, rich voice calms you and forces you to trust him; his kindness seems without end. You feel almost immediately that you can place your life in his hands without fear. He may seem goofy, but anyone who knows him as well I can see right past that illusion. He takes his job and power quite seriously, a bit too seriously at times, in my opinion.  
  
Yet, as important as his duties are to Tsuzuki, Hisoka beats him when it comes to being serious. Actually, to tell the truth, it's rare to find a time when the boy DOESN'T seem serious. Hisoka's emerald green eyes and light brown hair make him just as attractive as Tsuzuki, but his cold, aloof manner keep people at a distance. Not that I blame him. If I were an empath, I suspect I would hide my thoughts and feelings from the world as well, if only for my own peace of mind.  
  
Still, even with all these differences, I must confess that these two form one of the best partnerships I have seen in my time as a shinigami. My scientific mind forces me to acknowledge that opposites attract; this is quite obviously the case with my two friends. Tsuzuki's pure, kind nature has been the only solace for Hisoka's damaged psyche, and Hisoka's presence has affected Tsuzuki in ways I do not think he truly understands. Both have been responsible for saving the lives of the other, and even I can see the love shining in their eyes as they falsely fight before me.  
  
I feel the faint sting of envy strike me, but I ignore it. Tsuzuki is one of my best friends, and Hisoka is becoming more and more a friend every day. I should be happy that these two have found each other, whether or not they realize it. Still, I cannot help but wish that I had such a good companion, someone I could love and could love me in return. I wish that I did not always find myself so alone...  
  
003's gentle coo in my ear makes me smile, and I scratch his head, 'I almost forgot about you, oldest friend. You are my constant companion; you will never leave me, right?' Although my owl friend cannot hear my thoughts, his large eyes close in pleasure from the scratching, and that is enough to make me cheer up again.  
  
Well, as cheerful as you can get when you're out looking for a murderer. Quite a bloody affair, this current case. So far three victims had been discovered, all innocents who may simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The throats had been slashed, a quick, painless death, but also a messy one. The bodies had been left untouched, except for one strange detail. The right eye of each individual was missing.  
  
When I had told this detail to Tsuzuki and Hisoka, they had been understandably sickened. Yet, their revulsion went deeper then the case itself, and I knew all too well the reason why.  
  
All three of us feared we knew the murderer; all three of us shuddered at the thought of who the man could be, must be. All three of us were afraid to voice our suspicion.  
  
Yet, as much as we loathed the thought, we had to accept it. There was only one man we all knew who could commit such crimes without being caught or seen, only one man who would all but invite the shinigami to him with calling cards of death and blood. There was only one man who would desire such a thing.  
  
'Muraki...'  
  
//Tsuzuki\\  
  
'Muraki...'  
  
The mere thought of this man makes my blood burn with anger. Too much has happened at his hands for me to forgive him. Too many people have been hurt in his sickening attempts to capture me. The poor dead singer Maria Wong, forced back to life in order to sing for her mother's profit and Muraki's twisted plots. The use of the Camilla, a pleasure boat, to bring about the death of others. All the victims killed to further the research of Professor Satomi, his mentor.  
  
This does not even include our current case, though there is no doubt in my mind that he is responsible.  
  
Yet, these are simply his most recent victims. I do not have to look far to find another...  
  
If Hisoka knew my thoughts, he would tell me that none of it is my fault. And, as usual, he would be right. Yet, when I look to my partner, I can see the scars he stills bears from his death. No, death is too polite a term for what happened to him; torture may be better.  
  
Every time I think of how Muraki cursed him, used him, my anger doubles. In my mind's eye, I can see Muraki's pale hands gliding over Hisoka's body, and Hisoka's harsh cries of pain...  
  
I am no longer surprised by the rage and faint jealousy I have when I force myself to think of that morbid event. I have admitted to myself the true feelings I have for Hisoka, even though I can never tell how he feels about me. I have my suspicions of course, given to me by the boy himself. Especially when he called me back from certain death...  
  
"Tsuzuki? I hate to shake you from your thoughts, but is it not traditional for the one showing the way to be in front of the one following?"  
  
Watari's amused voice forces me from my reverie, and with a few startled blinks, I realize that I have indeed taken the lead from him. Giving him an apologetic smile, I receive one of his own sweet grins in return, while Hisoka merely gives a small sigh, "Daydreaming slacker..."  
  
Once, when he said such things of me, it had hurt. Then, I began to realize that his was his form of teasing, so I merely smile at him too, taking my place by his side, as our fellow shinigami begins to guide us once more.  
  
Even as he does so, I am forced to wonder once again why it is that Watari is here with us. These crimes had not taken place in his district, as had happened once before. The scientist had not given us a clear explanation as to why he would guide us; he had simply taken the map from Tatsumi and declared he was coming.  
  
I wish I knew what Watari was thinking. The happiness he always seems to show worries me often; I have more than once considered asking Hisoka to read his thoughts and emotions, if for no other reason than to understand my friend just a tiny bit better.  
  
However, I know I would never truly do such a thing. I respect Watari too much for such an invasion; I love Hisoka too much to ask him to use his powers so flippantly.  
  
Still, there is nothing to stop me from questioning him, right? Nothing except my own respect to keep his own secrets. I will not pester him; God knows we all have things we hide from others.  
  
I take a glance towards Hisoka out of the corner of my eyes, smiling to see that he occasionally looks towards me as we walk. Yes, I think eventually we will both be able to be perfectly open with one another about our feelings. Until then, I will never state mine aloud. Let me have my secret too...  
  
"Just what are you grinning about, Tsuzuki?"  
  
My grin widening, I try not chuckle at Hisoka's raised eyebrow, "Oh, nothing... just thinking about the first day we met. How you almost shot me thinking I was a vampire, how you dared to try and steal my food, how you got drunk... the way I couldn't get any sleep because I had to tuck you into bed..."  
  
A red blush spreads madly over his fine features, and he practically bites my head off, verbally if not physically, "Shut up! Why do you always make it sound so DIRTY?!"  
  
"What? Me make something sound dirty?" I flutter my eyes, rather enjoying baiting him. "Is it my fault your thoughts drift down the gutter just because I was the one to put you to bed and comment how cute you were?"  
  
"Oi oi... something tells me I am about to be in the middle of a lover's spat..."  
  
//Hisoka\\  
  
"LOVER'S SPAT?!"  
  
The words burst forth from my mouth before I can stop them, and I clamp my hands over my mouth immediately. I can feel my face burning as I blush; I am probably as red as a beet.   
  
Tsuzuki seems as shocked at Watari's words as I, and it gives me faint pleasure to see that he is blushing as well. That should teach him to bring up such embarrassing topics. Rare to see him so embarrassed though; I confess to myself that it is sort of nice. It makes him look even more beautiful than he is naturally...  
  
'What on earth am I THINKING?!' I cannot BELIEVE I just thought that about Tsuzuki. Men are not supposed to think other men beautiful!  
  
Yet, every time I think of my partner that is the only word I can think to describe him: beautiful. It makes me wonder why every time I see him my heart begins to beat just a bit faster, I seem to feel a little bit better.  
  
Then, my own words echo in my mind as I remember how I begged him not to die, to live, if only for me. Surely it was not possible that I was falling in love with Tsuzuki?  
  
I am hardly the best person to analyze my own feelings, and I am certain that this moment is not the best time to do so. Perhaps later, whenever I am alone and have time to think. Not now when I am on duty.  
  
Watari merely smiles at us both, as if oblivious to our embarrassment, and he wags his finger, "Now, I do not want to have to play counselor to you both, but this is neither the time nor the place to start having one of your little fights. Tsuzuki, if you want my advice, take Hisoka here out to a nice dinner, embarrass him there, maybe get him drunk again and THEN start talking about your feelings. Hisoka... I don't know what to tell but to watch out for the sly devil."  
  
I feel my face redden as 003 mimics his owner's actions, but it is worth it to see that Tsuzuki's mouth is wide open and slack jawed, "You really ARE cruel, aren't you?!"  
  
Giving a toss of his hair and a shrug of his shoulders, the scientist only laughs, "I've been around Tatsumi too long; that's what you get for always leaving me behind."  
  
Something about those words make me stare at him; I do not even have to use my empathic powers to see that there is some emotion hidden in them, "What do you mean?"  
  
He seems startled by the question, pushing his glasses up as he turns away, "Just... I am so often left behind that, the last time I had to come to do field work with the two of you... I nearly lost you both. I stood by while Tsuzuki tried to kill himself, and I still did nothing, not even when you put yourself in danger along with him, Hisoka. I cannot forgive myself... for that weakness."  
  
Even as he speaks, I know this; sorrow and guilt radiate from him like light from a star. This admission surprises not only himself, but Tsuzuki as well, and my partner begins to speak, "Watari..."  
  
Grasping his arm, I gently send a tendril of thought towards him, 'Don't, Tsuzuki... anything you say right now can only make him feel worse...'  
  
'Hisoka! You don't KNOW that! I can't just stand here and let him think I blame him for what he has done!'  
  
'I am telling you to let it lie for a bit; whenever we are done investigating this case, talk to him. But not before; give him time to search his own feelings.' With that bit of advice I release the contact, and the link. I glance towards Watari to see if he suspects our mental discussion of him, but he merely hums a happy diddy softly to himself. I cannot lie; this relieves me immensely.  
  
Suddenly, he stops, folding his map and placing it securely in the beak of 003, "According to Tatsumi's information, this is the place the body of the last victim was found. I suppose you can get a reading from here, Hisoka?"  
  
Glancing at the blood that still stains the pavement, I nod, "Yes. From this, I should be able to see what it was that the victim saw."  
  
Tsuzuki's words are harsh and cold, things I so very rarely hear from him, "Then we will truly know... whether or not Muraki is gone."  
  
"Will this give you peace, Tsuzuki?"  
  
Turning to face me, his purple eyes devoid of the kindness and love that I have come to cherish within him, "I would that he did not return to haunt us again.  
  
Taken a back, but careful not to show it, I only nod, "This should not take very long..."  
  
"Be careful, Hisoka."  
  
It seems strange to me that Watari should say these words and not Tsuzuki; then again, as I think about it, Watari has only ever seen my power harming me. He has never witnessed the way I use them to better complete my mission.  
  
I kneel, reaching hesitantly towards the darkest stain. I truly do not know how this will affect me, though I have no informed either Watari or Tsuzuki of the fact. I know that I should be able to see the victim, to see what he or she saw, but would I experience their death as well? It is not certain; nothing about this power of mine is ever certain.  
  
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I touch the stain, allowing the familiar sensations of looking into another's memories take me away from the present time.  
  
//Muraki\\  
  
It often amazes me how easy it is to peer inside the human soul. For all of our supposed intelligence and superiority, we truly are no better than the animals we are supposed to rule over. In some ways we are so much weaker...  
  
A lion does not weep over the fate of the lamb, nor does the spider apologize to the fly caught in its intricate web. Our bestial companions know that in order to get what they wish, indeed, in order to survive, they must be ruthless, cunning, and heartless. They must strike with speed and determination, killing their prey and their enemies with the same moral calm. This is the only way to maintain their existence.  
  
Yet, we humans fail to take the lessons from these creatures. Perhaps we feel it is beneath us to learn from a creature without as much intelligence or skill. Yet, if only we did, we would be better off for it. Instead we allow our weak hearts, our puny souls to rule our lives. So few of us have the stomach to do what these animals realize must be done. So few can kill, so few can remain aloof and uncaring. So few can play the game of life with a skillful hand.  
  
I myself could once take great pride at being one of those happy few, but no longer. My one goal in life was to slay my brother, the one who had caused me so much pain. I was ready to do whatever needed to be done, kill whomever needed to be killed. I dedicated my life to revenge, my life of darkness, and I was glad.  
  
This predatory life seemed made for me. I delighted in the blood I wallowed in, the blood that never ceased flowing. Shivers of pleasure ran down my spine at the feelings of power I experienced with each kill. Nothing could stop me! Nothing!  
  
Or so I thought. Then, suddenly, I found something that could. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it could happen, that I would succumb to the weaknesses of my human heart.  
  
But someone cast their spell upon me, someone with amethyst eyes that pierced my very soul, "Tsuzuki..."  
  
True, I had become interested in the shinigami because I thought I could use him to slake my thirst for revenge. Yet, when I laid eyes upon him, another thirst became rampant within me. I wanted to touch him, to hold him, to possess him... all the victims I killed still had their uses, but more important to me was the fact that soon I would be able to see my love again. Each drop of blood spilled brings him closer; every victim's scream calls to him.  
  
I told myself it was not so; I willed myself to believe it. But I have never been, nor am I now, a man to deceive myself. Desire is not the word to use for what I feel for Tsuzuki; I positively lust after him.  
  
Yet, I still need him for my revenge, to attempt to bring Saki back. So I continue to send him my bloody invitations, knowing that the victims will bring him to me time and time again, even if everything else would fail.  
  
As I watch from the shadows, it would appear that once again I have been successful in luring him to me. How angry he looks as he says something to that boy partner of his...   
  
I sneak a bit closer, in order to catch the words. Yes, as I thought, they are discussing me. Really, I cannot imagine why they would not be certain that I live; how can I die without my revenge? How I could die without ever tasting Tsuzuki to his fullest? Oh no... I have reasons to live, reasons more powerful than the seductive hands of death.  
  
Closer examination of the group reveals an additional member, other than my beloved and his partner, and I raise an eyebrow. I have seen this man with them before, the one of the long golden hair and equally golden eyes, yet I still have no true idea of who he is. I know he is a shinigami like the two others; that is sufficient information for the time being.  
  
Seeing the boy reach towards one of the stains left behind by the victim's blood, I smirk. So he is willing to risk an emotional and mental torture simply for the chance that I MIGHT be dead and he is chasing some other criminal? How pathetic... yet how deliciously sweet...  
  
Almost immediately after touching the stain, the boy gives a gasp, his green eyes widening in a mixture of shock and horror. It delights me to no end, I must admit, for it awakens memories within me of another time, when I possessed him, and those same luminous eyes were so full of pain inflicted by my own hand.  
  
Tsuzuki speaks first, amazingly gentle for all the barely contained emotions displayed in his posture, "What do you see Hisoka?"  
  
"The... victim. She was so young, barely a teenager. Her mother... her mother asked her to go to the store to pick up a cake for her younger sister's surprise birthday party," Hisoka chokes out, tears forming in the edges of his eyes. "She picked up the cake... but on the way home she... s-she..."  
  
"Yes? What is it Hisoka?! Tell us!"  
  
At my love's commanding tone, the man beside him turns to him with worried eyes, "Tsuzuki... this is hard for him. Don't try to push him beyond his limits..."  
  
"Muraki... he plunged the knife into her from behind." The boy's voice becomes softer as he continues, and I feel myself begin to feel the delightful tingles spread throughout my body as I remember the event. "T-the eye... he cut out the eye while she was still alive..."  
  
"Oh my god... the sick BASTARD!" Apparently I have angered the man I do not know, as he curls his hands into fists, the owl companion on his shoulder puffing it's feathers out to match his mood. "Is it not enough to take their lives? Must he torture them as well?!"  
  
"Watari... Watari, I think something is wrong. If Hisoka has seen this much... why is he still locked in the trance like that?" Tsuzuki asks, ignoring the outburst as he kneels next to his partner. "Watari... look at his eyes!"  
  
I do believe we both look at the same time; indeed, the boy's eyes have become glazed, his breathing heavy and irregular. Tsuzuki kneels next to him, his voice rising slightly in panic, "Hisoka? HISOKA?!"  
  
The boy shudders, "Cold... so cold... life... bleeding away, so slowly... and he's LAUGHING! HE THINKS IT'S FUNNY!"  
  
Giving a low chuckle, I watch with joy. Indeed, I do find the deaths of others amusing, but I find them cringing in pain doubly so. The sight of Hisoka so tormented fills me with extreme pleasure.  
  
Watari studies him, his voice grave, "I think he's trapped in his vision, Tsuzuki. Break his contact with the stain."  
  
"What will that do to him? What if it hurts him MORE?!" Tsuzuki rages, his purple eyes blazing. "I won't risk that!"  
  
From what I know of this Watari's character so far, I expect him to back down at my love's obvious mixture of anger and fear. However, he surprises me, his voice becoming as passionless as steel, "Tsuzuki, if you do not then he will die. He is being pulled into the victim's death. Now, either put your terror behind you to save the man you love, or get the hell out of the way so I can!"  
  
I raise an eyebrow at Tsuzuki's shocked expression. Obviously this is truly a new experience for him as well, and I begin to study the blonde companion further. He seems a scientist, nothing extraordinary. He looks to be a follower, not a leader; yet, my beloved begins to do as he asks, grasping his partner's hand.  
  
The effects of the broken contact are not immediate; if anything, they do appear to get worse. The boy's emerald eyes fill with tears as he begins to pant and sweat, clutching Tsuzuki's hand.  
  
Although no words are spoken, Tsuzuki suddenly scoops the boy into his arms, holding him close to his chest, almost as though he had been asked to. Then again, the boy could do such a thing with his powers.  
  
The raw embrace sends a flash of fury and jealousy across my vision. Why? Why does Tsuzuki feel so deeply for this boy?! Beautiful, yes he is beautiful I admit, but surely not any more so than I? His emotions and thoughts are no better than my own; they are just as twisted and strange.  
  
Seeing how the man of my heart strokes his hair so gently, whispering into his ears causes me to shake with rage, and I whisper aloud, "No, my beautiful china doll... I will not let some boy take you away from me..."  
  
I must have Tsuzuki. There is no question of it. Yet, I will not fully possess him so long as Hisoka lives. I will not be able to obtain him; I will not be able to love him. My path is clear. I begin the incantation.  
  
"Demon of the blackest hell; come to me and serve me well. I charge you to destroy the helpless and weak; I call you to devour the ones you seek. Drink your fill of their blood so fresh; eat your fill of their newly dead flesh. Leave none alive but the one I need; the others you may consume with your greed..."  
  
I feel my mechanical eye begin to flow with power; I bite my tongue until my own blood gathers in my mouth. I spit this to the ground, completing the summoning, "With this sacrifice your services I claim; I of the blood and the keeper of your name. Oni, come forth to me if you dare, and darken the sky with harsh despair."  
  
Almost immediately I am rewarded with thick, black clouds gathering in the sky; the bright flashes of lightening and rolling thunder are matched with fast winds.  
  
I give a sickly smile, knowing my face at this moment is once again the cold predator I strive to be. It has begun. 


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Note: Thanks to my reviewers! I'm glad the first chapter obtained such a nice reception. ^-^ I only hope you continue to enjoy the story.  
  
'' indicates thoughts (or telepathy _ _)  
  
//\\ indicates POV  
  
Special thanks to Theria.net, the source I used for locating the summoning spell. It is the manga version, different from the one in the anime only slightly. I just felt I needed to give them credit as a resource. ^-^V  
  
Warning: I cannot write battle scenes worth anything, so if it seems a bit... lacking, this is why. I tried though, and that should count for something... right?  
  
//Hisoka\\  
  
Trapped. Lost in a sea of blood and tears. Floating amongst a wave of pain and anguish.  
  
I knew that connecting with the victim would be dangerous, that I might lose my sense of self. All of my worst fears have come true. I am trapped in the loop of her pain; I relive her death time and time again. Her screams are horrifying; her pleas for her life are far, far worse. I know she will receive no mercy, not from this man.  
  
Muraki has never been merciful, not to me, not to this girl... not to anyone. I recognize the gleam in his one silver eye, the eerie luminescence of the other. There is no mistaking the look on his face, the satisfied predator, the sated lust for blood.  
  
As much as I want to break away, I know I cannot do so. The knife in her back is the knife in my back; the pain in her eye is the pain in my eye. As her lifeblood slowly ebbs away, I feel mine do the same. All is darkness; all is lost.  
  
I can only shiver as the ruby liquid coats my body, a lukewarm bath that sickens me. I know that I am caked with it; I am as a newborn infant from the mother's womb, wearing the blood as a second skin. The fact does not help at all; if anything, it makes it worse. For this blood, it is not mine. And yet it is... it is...  
  
The pounding of my heart fills my ears. No... the pounding of OUR hearts. Two distinct tempos, rapidly synchronizing. Two rich bass sounds, achieving an almost perfect unison. Two heartbeats... slowing... slowing...  
  
As Death brushes a silken hand against my soul, I find that the only person in my mind is my partner. Strange that I should think of Tsuzuki now, how I will never see him smile again, how I will fight with him... or even hear his voice...  
  
'Hisoka? HISOKA?!'  
  
Slowly, painfully, I open my single eye, gazing upward from the reddish haze of my vision. I see nothing, and despite everything, I am forced to find amusement at my own weakness. So close to death, yearning so desperately to see him once more, I have concocted an illusion to soothe me.  
  
My breathing becomes ragged as my body labors to stay alive, and I try to respond to that concerned call. Even if it is but a figment of my imagination, I yearn to answer, to speak with him again. All that I can manage to do is cough up blood, feeling it's warm stickiness cling to my throat. A brief sense of nausea afflicts me, bile rising to join the metallic ooze. Soon... it will all be over soon...  
  
The last bit of my strength begins to ebb away, and sadly, I send a soft message to my partner, wherever he may be, 'Tsuzui... I'm sorry... I can't hold on...'  
  
'Hisoka? Hisoka, please! Hisoka, I don't want you to die!'  
  
That... voice... It commands me, it moves through me, and I hardly believe it as I see an outline coming closer. I recognize those purple eyes, that tall stature, the chocolate brown hair framing a beautiful face, on full of concern.  
  
'T...Tsu...Tsuzuki?' My mental tendril must seem pitifully weak to him, but as it touches his mind, joy fills my soul. Here is something concrete; something I can latch onto. It is full of warmth and... and love?  
  
'Hold on to me; I won't let you fall... I won't let you go...'  
  
I feel him take me into his arms, finding bliss in this simple state, mind to mind, soul to soul, heart to heart. I am lifted from the blood, the pain, the anguish; all the darkness and ice of evil melt away at his warm touch.  
  
His soul pulsates with light and life, smothering me with a satisfaction I have never known before, 'Hisoka... I love you; I need you. Please... don't leave me here alone...'  
  
Like a plant left out of the sun for too long, I soak in his love, his care. And suddenly, with that calm clarity that only a near death experience can bring, I realize something.  
  
'Tsuzuki... I love you too...'  
  
His happiness washes over me, as intoxicating as any wine, his voice both soothing and commanding, 'Then come back to me... let this girl finally find peace. Let her die within you, and come back to the light!'  
  
I blink my eyes. My EYES! This simple fact, along with the lack of pain and blood, assure me that I am again in the world to which I belong. And the first sight to greet me is the purest smile I have ever seen grace my partner's face, "Welcome back..."  
  
I give a shy smile of my own, burying my head into his shoulder, realizing that he is holding me close to his chest. Strangely... I don't care. All of the nervousness and fear I usually experience when sharing another's thoughts and emotions have vanished. I feel... bonded with him. He has become a part of my heart, a part of my very soul.  
  
Only once before have we ever melded so completely, when he had to use my body to direct a spell against Muraki. And even that experience paled in comparison to this. For the first time in my life, I feel whole. Imagine a blind man who has gained his sight, or a mute who can suddenly speak. I feel so alive, so rich in spirit!  
  
Hearing someone kneel on the ground, I look away from Tsuzuki, seeing Watari's relieved smile, "Hisoka, thank goodness! You gave us quite a scare there!"  
  
Nodding, I slide reluctantly, so reluctantly out of my love's strong embrace, once again donning my mask of emotionless serenity, "Forgive me, Watari. I am merely thankful that one of you was able to break me free in time. I nearly lost my life, as surely as the victim did."  
  
Even as I speak the words, I feel a mental stab, a feeling of deep disappointment, 'Once again... he's so cold, so serious...'  
  
Shocked, I feel my eyes widen, and once again I direct my energy towards my partner, 'Tsuzuki? Can you hear me?'  
  
Surprise ripples through my mind, waves full of static, and his disbelief is apparent, even in mind to mind communication, 'HISOKA?! But how? I'm... I'm not touching you!'  
  
'I don't know! Hold on...' I search my mind, and there I find it. A shimmering, golden link, one I can feel quite strongly. I touch it, and I hear Tsuzuki's mental gasp. Sheepishly, I admit to him, 'I... I think we've become permanently bonded...'  
  
'... you mean I'm never going to be able to keep myself out of your mind again?'  
  
'Well, I'm sure there IS a way for us to control it. Given time, I am also sure that we will find it,' I reply, raising my mental shielding as much as I possible can. It does not help very much, as I can still sense all of his emotions and even some of his louder thoughts, but it is better than nothing.  
  
Life has certainly turned a bit more interesting...  
  
//Watari\\  
  
There are no words to describe the relief I feel as I see Hisoka returning to his normal self, nor the incredible sweetness of seeing he and Tsuzuki together. Alas, there is also a twang of bitterness, and I am too honest with myself to deny it. To know that they have learned their emotions for each other, or at least admitted it to themselves, from this experience, and to know that it was my urging that caused it... how perfectly ironic. Me, the emotionally inexperienced, the loveless. It is a strangely humorous thing.  
  
As they separate, I see both of them gaze at each other with a startled expression, and for a moment I fear something has gone terribly wrong. To match my anxiety, 003 gives a small screech, but I soothe him with a quick stroke of the head, "What is it?"  
  
Tsuzuki looks at me first, his face flushed with confusion and aggravation, "It's Hisoka... he's in my head, and I can't get him out!"  
  
Of all the things he could have possibly said, I must admit this one probably takes me the most by surprise. My eyes widen ever so slightly, and I hear myself blurting out, like a fool, "What?"  
  
Hisoka's emerald eyes pierce my soul with their coldness as he speaks, "Apparently when he entered my mind to save me from death, Tsuzuki bonded with me some how. It is a new, thin bond now; I'm sure someone with the right powers could snap it."  
  
A scientist's intrigue overtakes me, and I begin to question him, "What sort of a bond is it? Do you think you could break it yourself?"  
  
"I can hear his thoughts, feel his emotions," the boy states, showing none of the signs of anxiety his partner does. "No... I do not think I could break this bond myself. I am not sure I would even want to. I do not know what caused this to happen, but perhaps it will become useful in the long run."  
  
Tsuzuki gives a cry, clearly flabbergasted, "USEFUL?! How on earth could this be USEFUL?!"  
  
Seeing Hisoka's mouth set in a grim line, I can imagine the sting of his words, normally poisonous, turning even more toxic as Tsuzuki could feel the emotion behind them. Quickly I speak up, "I can think of several. For one thing, you will always know how to locate one another, even over long distances. You can communicate silently when faced with an enemy and plan strategy with it. Do you not think that is an advantage?"  
  
He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again abruptly, actually considering what I have said. I will not say this surprises me too much; Tsuzuki is, for all of his childish acting, very serious about his job. However, I can never stop the chill that runs down my spine whenever I see that cold, calculating look overtake his normally warm violet eyes, almost as though another mind has come and taken over the body of the friend I have known for so long.  
  
Then, all at once, that icy presence vanishes, and he smiles, "Not to mention the most important thing of all!"  
  
Hisoka's slender eyebrow raises, "Oh?"  
  
"You can never hide anything from me again, and I can tease you whenever I want!"  
  
"What?! Only YOU would think that the most important advantage!"  
  
Once again they break off into their famous squabbling, and I smile as 003 nips my cheek playfully. It seems as though, despite the near death of Hisoka, everything is starting to take a turn for the best.  
  
Even as I think the thoughts, I take a glance up to the sky. The light had been becoming dimmer and dimmer; I thought this meant the sun was setting. But, as I look up now, I see to my surprise that it is not so. Thick, black clouds are rolling in fast from the east, covering the golden sun from view. Gusts of wind begin to blow heavily, and I shudder, struggling to wrap my coat tighter about me.  
  
The air becomes icy, and 003 hides himself within my jacket, trying to escape the winds that buffet against him. Hisoka and Tsuzuki also notice this sudden change, and together, the three of us face the wind, trying to determine where it is coming from.  
  
The answer appears all too quickly, as a place not ten feet away from us becomes a swirling vortex of blue and silver light, and the gusts continue to grow in strength. The colors of the light vanish, replaced with pure white. The intensity is too much; I shield my eyes lest I become momentarily blind.  
  
Even before the illumination passes, a deafening roar erupts from the vortex, a sound that causes my heart to plummet. Tsuzuki gives a muffled curse, and I can barely make out his shout above the sound, "DAMN IT! Someone's summoning a creature here!"  
  
A creature? As soon as the light begins to fade, I remove my hand, determined to see just what it is we find ourselves up against.  
  
I wish I had not done so. Although I have spent my afterlife in the research of demons of all kinds, nothing has truly prepared me for this sight. I recognize the creature quickly enough as an Oni, a demon and ogre mix. Its purplish flesh stretches tightly over its muscular frame, revealing every thick vein pulsating with life. Luminous yellow eyes gaze out from the misshapen face, and when it opens its mouth to cry again, I can clearly make out its sharp fangs.  
  
And while none of this comes as any real surprise to the logical part of my mind, another part is in sheer terror of this grotesque being. 003 shudders from within the safety of my coat, and I see Tsuzuki and Hisoka preparing to attack. But it is I, the powerless buffoon, who remains the closest to this monstrosity.  
  
The Oni scans them both, then turns his eyes back to me. My heart begins to beat rapidly, and before I can even think to react, I hear my own screams in my ears. Pain lances through my body as the beast's claws slice open my chest, and I give another yell as the force of the blow sends me flying, hitting a nearby wall.  
  
"WATARI!"  
  
I only dimly make out the sound of my own name, and as I open my eyes slowly, I see that my wounds have caused a great pool of blood to form around me. I seem to bathed in the warm, slick muck, and my skin crawls in revulsion. I feel 003 struggling to escape his hiding place, and though it takes far too much effort, I release my feathered companion. He immediately lets out a hoot of distress, his eyes wider than ever, glowing with his strangely human concern, and he gently nestles against my face, apparently unconcerned with the preening his feather will require to remove the blood later.  
  
I know these wounds will heal quickly, although they are painful, and I yearn to comfort him, but I cannot find the words for it. As I stare helplessly out at the battle, it is obvious that Tsuzuki and Hisoka are in need of aid. The Oni attacks too fast for them to have the time they require to summon a creature of their own; it is only a matter of time before the beast destroys them.  
  
And what can I do? Nothing, absolutely nothing! Once more I am forced to bear witness as my friends struggle for their lives, once more I have been reduced to a helpless state! Rage overtakes my heart then, and it is in this moment of pure, cold fury that I am struck with genius. I can provide a distraction for the two of them, giving them the chance they need to summon something to protect them. Even if I can do nothing else, I can perform this simple task.  
  
I detach myself from my body, away from the pain I should be feeling, away from the fear. My mind has already formulated the plan; all I must do now is carry it out. No time for human timidity now; no time to fall prey to panic and doubt!  
  
I yank the orange bow from my head, ignoring the feel of my long hair freely floating in the wind, and I dip the fabric into my own blood. Soundlessly I begin to create a picture on the wall, allowing the fresh liquid to act as the reddest of paints. What does it matter now if it looks the art of a child? Size... size is what matters. Something large enough to distract the Oni, something large enough to put up a fight until it could be destroyed along with the beast it was fighting.  
  
Frantically, feverishly, I paint the creature. I hear nothing from the battlefield; I hear nothing from anywhere. I see nothing but that which lies ahead of me. I feel nothing; I think of nothing. Nothing but this picture matters.  
  
Adding the final touches, I slip out of my self-incurred working state. I realize that, although the wounds are already almost healed, I have lost a great deal of blood. I feel light-headed, dizzy, and as I dab the irises in the non-seeing eyes, I feel my own vision blur. Sinking to my knees, with 003 flying about in a state of panic, I think only one thought, directing it with all my strength and will before the blackness clawing at my consciousness overtakes me.  
  
'LIVE!'  
  
//Tsuzuki\\  
  
"WATARI!"  
  
Even as I scream my friend's name, I see his body sink to the ground. I witness the pool of blood form around him, crimson tendrils spreading out, growing every moment. Although I know he cannot die, that does nothing to soothe me. Rich, cold anger gnaws at my insides, and with a snarl I turn to face the attacker.  
  
Strangely, the monster seems to have no interest in me. He studies me closely for a time with his glowing saffron eyes, and then he turns to Hisoka, giving him the same scrutiny.  
  
Almost immediately he lashes out, and my partner is barely able to dodge the blow. I rush towards him, helping him avoid yet another attack.  
  
As I stand in front of Hisoka, the beast seems confused, almost as though he is debating something. A clawed hand snatches me by the coat, and I feel myself lifted off my feet and tossed aside.  
  
Compared to the force with which Watari had been attacked, this is amazingly gentle, and I hardly feel any pain as I hit the ground. These actions puzzle me, but I am back on my feet in an instant as Hisoka cries out, those claws that only just released me digging themselves into his flesh.  
  
I feel the still new experience of sending thoughts through our link, as his message comes through, words tinged with pain, 'Stay back! You have to summon a guardian to defeat him!'  
  
'But... you're hurt!'  
  
Quicksilver laughter through our bond, a sound I truly marvel at. Hisoka never laughs... 'Tsuzuki, for whatever reason, you have some sort of protection against this demon; you are the only one he has not attacked! You must do this, because Watari and I cannot!'  
  
I know that this is logical and true, but the very core of my being rejects it. How can I stand by, while this demon attacks my love and my dear friend?  
  
Hearing 003's panicky cries, I glance to check on Watari out of the corner of my eye, and I give a gasp. The wounded scientist is on his feet, despite his injuries, but it is his actions that cause me to nearly cry out.  
  
He appears to be intently producing a picture, using his own blood as the medium. I watch, fascinated, as he completes his task, falling back to the ground.  
  
'Tsuzuki... he's trying to make that picture come alive!'  
  
Hisoka's words come as no surprise to me; I had forgotten that he has never seen Watari's power before. He has simply not been a shinigami long enough, I suppose.  
  
Yet, as I think about it, I cannot remember a time that I have ever seen the scientist USE his power. I have always known what it was, of course; it was never kept a secret from me. As I peruse my memories, I recall several instances of his genius with machinery, computer research, small medicine... but never once the use of his power.  
  
'Well... I'm seeing it now...'  
  
How to truly describe such a sight? Perhaps in some childhood fantasy I dreamed of a painting coming to life; I'm sure everyone has. We see pictures so realistic that it seems a soul is merely trapped on canvas, a human or thing waiting to be plucked. But to actually SEE it happen is something entirely different.  
  
When the picture created in Watari's blood raises its arms, when its legs move, and you realize that this moving, seemingly alive thing was only moments before a grotesque graffiti, it is completely awe inspiring. I stand, quite stupidly, gawking at it.  
  
The drawing is that of a giant beast, one large enough to stand up against the demon we face. Even as they begin to grapple, I continue to watch, this mystifying meeting of Titans.  
  
'Tsuzuki... wake up! Now is the perfect time to perform a summoning; do not waste the distraction Watari has given us!'  
  
Hisoka's mental lash is enough to shake me from my mindless stare, and I nod, preparing the spell I have used so many times in the past.  
  
"Humbly do I present..."  
  
Close my eyes, ignore the sounds of battle around me. Concentrate on the task; do not become distracted.   
  
"My wish to those twelve that grant me divine protection..."   
  
Forget about Watari, slowly healing. Forget about Hisoka, powerless to do anything. Forget what could happen to the two of them in the time it takes to cast this...  
  
An agonized scream fills the air; I feel the pain channeling through me. But it does not matter now...  
  
"I command you to appear before me!! SUZAKU!"  
  
//Muraki\\  
  
From my vantage point, I smile softly to myself. Things certainly have not gone according to plan...  
  
I realize now that it was a mistake to summon the Oni. While obedient and thorough, I often forget that they have a terrible tendency to become distracted by things in battle.  
  
It is of no great surprise or consequence that the beast is defeated. It is the way in which it was done that so intrigues me...  
  
I do not make reference to my love's summoning of the phoenix, Suzaku. This truly magnificent sight I have seen before, though it is always a joy to witness it once again. Those splendid flames suddenly appearing, basking my Tsuzuki's face in a warm, orange glow, and the great bird itself, feathers formed of fire, an inferno incarnate as it mercilessly destroys both my Oni and the strange beast that had been designed to serve as a distraction are a sight I shall never forget.  
  
A strange beast indeed, especially in its creation. For years I have known of the mystic properties assigned to blood; I know I am consumed its strangely magnetic allure. Every religion on earth finds power in this simple bodily liquid; everyone values it beyond all reason. It is the most precious tribute to the gods; it is that which it is forbidden for mere mortals to spill, to taste, to desire without expecting   
  
Yet, even knowing all of this, nothing truly prepared me for the sight I witnessed. The sight of blood coming to life...  
  
I had not been particular pleased when the Oni had gone after the man named Watari instead of the boy I despise so much, but I am forced to admit it was the logical course of action. I had ordered him to destroy them both; the scientist was the closest target.  
  
Of course, his failure to actually hit the boy himself I noted with disgust. Then again, with Tsuzuki, my beloved, immune to attack, I should have realized he would have a puppy loyal bodyguard to protect him at every turn. The mere thought of it makes me sneer in distaste.  
  
Yet, it seems all has not been lost. As I watched the pitiful battle, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. I cannot adequately express my surprise at seeing the injured scientist stumble to his feet, beginning to form a picture with his own blood or my even greater astonishment at witnessing it come to life.  
  
Elation filled my heart, a triumph that has not yet faded. With this blood, I can bring life to Saki. The power will flow through him, allowing him to become revived, even if it is only for a mere few moments. Those precious moments will be enough for me to destroy him myself, riding this plane of his existence once and for all.  
  
Yet, the best part of all is that none of this will involve my precious doll, Tsuzuki. I can have my revenge on my bastard brother, but I can also allow myself to fully savor my experiences with Tsuzuki. With Saki out of the way, it would be only a matter of time before I was able to taste my love to the fullest. The mere thought causes me to smile.  
  
Scanning the now desolate battle field, I am hardly surprised to see Tsuzuki rush to his partner's side instead of the more injured Watari. I know, perhaps better than anyone, that a consuming love can force you to ignore your sense of logic. However, unlike me, I know he will regret this action later, regarding it as selfish. Which, of course, it is, so at the very least he is not tormenting himself for nothing.  
  
Quietly, as not to attract attention, I slide from my place, making my way over to the still bleeding scientist. In the darkness that now comes from the lateness of hour and not my summoning spell, the moonlight causes his flesh, naturally pale from the loss of blood to become even paler and the spilt blood to take on a silver sheen. He appears the very essence of Death, yet the steady rise and fall of his chest shows all to clearly his life...   
  
To look at him forces me to recall the words of Bram Stoker's Dracula, and as I kneel beside him, I cannot help but whisper them aloud, "'The blood is the life...' Indeed, in you it seems to be true..."  
  
Is it my imagination or does he truly shiver at the sound of my voice? No... truly impossible; he is completely unconscious. I reach out to brush aside some of his hair, attempting to gain a closer look at his face.  
  
Instead, I feel a sharp pain in my fingers, and I look down to see that a tiny owl has buried his beak into my flesh. My other hand strikes with the speed of a snake, catching him by the neck. He gives a slight screech of pain, but it is not very loud, since I quickly cut off most of his air supply, leaving him only enough to breath.  
  
I recognize the bird as the constant companion of the injured scientist, and I laugh, addressing it as it tries to free itself, the sharp beak opening and closing soundlessly, "Admirable, really. Perhaps I should break your neck and end it quickly for you..."  
  
Ah, intoxicating fear rising in those naturally wide eyes. My smile widening, I tighten my hand slowly, so slowly, cutting of the airflow bit by bit...  
  
"N-no..."  
  
The soft moan catches my attention, and I turn to see half-open golden eyes staring at me, every bit as fascinating as the pain filled ones of my feathered victim. The wounded man licks his lips slowly, speaking again after a few moments of labored breathing, "Don't... kill... him..."  
  
I cease to strangle the owl, looking more intently at him. Even as he struggles to remain conscious, I can see the fear in his eyes, a concern meant purely for his bird. Chuckling, I lean to speak into his ear, "So much love for such a small thing? You are even worse than Tsuzuki..."  
  
His only response is his rasping breaths, but as I reach to touch his long, yellow hair, he visibly shudders. As always, the knowledge of my own power over my prey fills me with pleasure and satisfaction. It seems so easy just to take him now, spirit him away and obtain his life-giving blood.  
  
"MURAKI!"  
  
I slide my eyes in the direction from which my name is called, my smile merely deepening at the sight of my Tsuzuki standing angrily to the side, his hands clutched into fists. The cold, green eyes of his child partner greet me also, but ignore them, "Hello, Tsuzuki. And here I am, thinking that this was going to be easy..."  
  
Delicious anger rising in his jewel-like eyes as he speaks his next words, "What was going to be easy? What are you planning now?"  
  
"Now, I cannot very well tell you that. It would make the game far less interesting, would it not?" I know this answer will only infuriate him more, and I smirk, turning back to the owl still captured in my hand. Removing the other from its position in Watari's hair, I carefully grasp a flailing wing and break it.  
  
Whether it is the sound of the snapping bone or the pain-filled cry of the bird that forces the scientist's eyes open I do not know, but the horror and agony I read there are worth more than gold. Tossing the animal aside, I whisper once more in his ear, "I shall return for you..."  
  
Without waiting for any form of response, I rise to my feet. I know blood stains my once immaculate white garments, but it is not the first time it has happened, nor will it be the last. I give a slight bow to my beloved, "I am sorry I cannot stay longer, Tsuzuki, but I fear that if I do you will cease to remain in that perfectly lovely, motionless state and attempt to detain me. This, of course, I cannot allow."  
  
He flies at me, attempting to strike me with his fist, but I catch it and merely pull him to me, "I am surprised you would attempt something so inelegant and useless, Tsuzuki; you allow your emotions to cloud your better judgment. So it is that, every time, I catch you and bring you a little bit closer to me, and one day... one day I simply will not wish to let you go."  
  
His response is a snarl, "It will be a cold day in Hell before that happens, I can assure you..."  
  
Planting a soft kiss on his forehead before I push him into his partner, I nod, "I can wait that long for you, Tsuzuki. If I have anything, it is a wealth of patience."  
  
Without giving them time to recover, I vanish, traveling the same path from which I came. I consider briefly traveling to the storage unit that holds Saki, but I decide against it. There is no need for me to gloat just this instant.  
  
No... I believe I shall gloat when I am certain he can hear it, right before I end his miserable life. I make my way towards my home instead, for now new preparations must be made.  
  
After all, if I am to have a guest, I cannot appear to be shabby host, can I? 


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Again, thank you to all of my loyal readers and reviewers. I certainly would not have a purpose for continuing my writing if not for all of you. Please, continue to enjoy. The chapter is up a little early this week, which is good. Go me! ^-^V  
  
'' indicates thoughts or telepathy  
  
//\\ indicates character from whose POV the story is told at the time  
  
//Tsuzuki\\  
  
As Muraki pushes me away, I fall into my partner, knocking us both to the ground. Within seconds I am back on my feet, giving a snarl as I see him running away. I move to go after him, but Hisoka's hand on my arm stops me, as well as his voice, "No. Leave him."  
  
Anger pulses through my veins, and I spin to face him, "What do you mean leave him? If he gets away, he will only kill again! You know that, Hisoka!"  
  
His eyes and manner reflect a calmness he does not feel; I can tell through our bond that he is troubled and deeply hurt. His soul bears the creases of worry and stress his face cannot reveal; his silence speaks to me far greater than any words ever could.  
  
Even though he never opens his mouth, I can hear his thoughts, gently, within my own mind, 'If we go after him, we may have an even more terrible casualty... I feel it is best if we remain here."  
  
It takes me a few moments to realize what he means, but as the sounds of someone crying fill the night sky, I understand. 'Watari...'  
  
As I turn back to face my friend, I am overcome with grief. His normally cheerful face is contorted with both physical and emotional anguish, as he kneels in the crimson pool of his own blood, a pool that still grows around him. His companion in agony is poor 003, who flaps his good wing rapidly in vain, his other stuck at a strange, and undoubtedly painful, angle.  
  
As he reaches out to cradle the injured bird carefully in his arms, the scientist's sobs only become deeper and more ragged, tears catching the moonlight to form silver streaks down his face. He rocks back and forth, murmuring something to his feathered companion, never once looking towards us. To him... we may as well not have been there at all.   
  
'Yes... Watari needs us right now, Tsuzuki. He so rarely asks for anything in return for helping us; is it not time that we showed him how much we truly care?' My love's mind voice, colored with all the emotions he never displays, sinks into me, sharpening the strength of my own feelings. 'He and 003 need medical attention, which is not mentioning at all how terrified he must be from recent events.'  
  
'Yes... and we do not even know exactly what it is Muraki said to him... good Gods!' As I continue to witness Watari's suffering, intense guilt fills my heart. I should have been able to stop Muraki from getting to him; I know how truly cold and evil he can be, finding the weak spots in your psyche. I do not know yet what he has said to Watari, or even what designs he has on the man, but it is my duty to stop them, just as much as it is my duty to comfort my friend.  
  
And what have I done so far? Nothing, absolutely nothing! I did not keep the psychotic doctor from reaching him, from hurting 003; I did not pursue him, and my weak attempt at fighting him blew up in my face! And the worst, my supreme failure, is the fact that it did not even cross my mind immediately to console him. I, the one who tries to make sure everyone remains safe and happy, did not even think to go to my best friend, until Hisoka reminded me. I feel shame fill every corner of my being, and I know that I must not slack anymore.  
  
My partner gives me a silent nod when I meet his eyes; I know he will not interfere. Although he has shown me Watari's condition, I know he has not the words nor the experience in handling people that is required for this situation, and so does he. Yet, the ripples of encouragement I feel coming from him are more than enough.   
  
I walk towards my friend, placing a hand on his shoulder, speaking gently, "Watari? We need to get you to back to the Bureau..."  
  
Without a sound he looks towards me, his eyes as golden orbs of pain, and without a word, he pulls 003 a little closer, resting him against his chest. The wounds have not yet closed on his body, and he truly looks as though he will pass out at any moment.  
  
Ever so gently, I smile at him, "Yes... instead of you having to do all the medical work and hovering over the ill, you can have someone hover over you for once!"  
  
My own false cheerfulness sticks in my throat, but I hope it does something to reassure him. For a long moment he does not answer, and I begin to worry. Yet, as I am about to speak again, I hear his soft whisper, "I do not care about myself... but 003... h-he..."  
  
I force myself to grin wider, although what I truly wish to do is break into tears, "What? That little broken wing? That can be set again just as new! And just think, all the time you're being cared for, little 003 will be right there with you the entire time, screaming at them whenever he thinks they've mistreated you. It will be sort of a mini-vacation!"  
  
Watari shivers, and in response, I wrap a friendly arm around his shoulders, giving him a soft hug, as not to harm him. Being so close, I catch his murmur, "But... Muraki..."  
  
"No. Don't think of him. Look at me, Watari..." I wait until his eyes meet my own, and then I speak, trying to sound as comforting as I can, "I am sorry, so sorry that this happened to you. You cannot possibly understand how much. And, I do not know WHAT Muraki said to you or what he wants from you other than your pain and fear, but I promise you that Hisoka, myself, and every other shinigami will protect you. We will NOT allow that madman to harm you again!"  
  
Hisoka's serious voice joins my own, "What did he say to you, Watari? You have to tell us; we have to know what it is that he wants from you, for your own protection."  
  
The scientist's eyes begin to close, but he quickly opens them. He seems hesitant, and although I know he is struggling simply to remain conscious, I add to my partner's question, "Please Watari..."  
  
Taking a ragged breath, he whispered, "He said... he would come back for me..."  
  
He says no more, and I quickly catch him before he falls to the ground. He has once more slipped into the black oblivion that had been calling to him, and I must admit that I am relieved. At least there, he will feel no pain and be able to forget...  
  
Hisoka gently removes 003 from the other man's embrace, and although the owl gives a slight squawk of protest, he does not struggle. He seems to realize that the separation will not be permanent and that, in order for us to help his master, he must cooperate.   
  
The intelligence of the animal always astounds me, as it gives me a penetrating stare. That gaze speaks volumes, as he appears to be saying, "I heard what you promised him. I will not allow you to forget it; you must protect him now, since I could not. I trust you."  
  
I know it to be nothing but my own fancy, but it only strengthens my resolve, as I lift my injured friend into my arms, "Come on Hisoka; let's take him home."  
  
//Hisoka\\  
  
It takes us hardly any time at all to return to the bureau; neither Tsuzuki nor myself carries a heavy burden.  
  
At least not physically. For my part, the now resting 003 is nothing but a light, warm bundle of feather. I do not know if Tsuzuki is having trouble carrying Watari; my partner has not said a word since we left the crime scene.  
  
This silence is uncharacteristic of him; I am beginning to become worried. I take a gentle look through our link, barely avoiding a gasp. The dark, brooding look on his face is nothing compared to the maelstrom of his mind. Guilt gnaws his insides, trapping his thoughts into a repetitive, deadly mantra. 'I failed him; I am worthless. No one deserves to put up with me. I failed him...'  
  
There is no way to describe my pain as I witness this process, knowing that there is no possible way that I can comfort him. Still, I make an attempt, sending soft reassurance through the bond, 'Tsuzuki... this is not your fault. How were you to know?'  
  
'I was immune to attack! Immune because that sick bastard loves me... immune because Muraki wants me alive! I should have realized sooner! All I had to do...'  
  
I allow cold anger to shoot through me, giving him the equivalent of a mental slap. I feel his shock and surprise as he recoils, but I do not relent, 'All you had to do was go with Muraki, and then what? How would anything have been different?! He would not have called off that Oni; he would have let you WATCH as it destroyed us both! Now stop this! You are not helping anyone and only hurting yourself and me. I will not listen to this anymore!'  
  
There is a silence, although I can feel his raging emotions. His depression battles against the wisdom and truth that I have said. Eventually, his darkness subsides, and I hear his loving voice, "Thank you Hisoka. I needed that."  
  
Giving a nod, I am horrified to see that I am almost crying, but I cover it up quickly, running a hand over my eyes, "Just don't make me do it again too soon; I would hate to have to act as your conscience all the time."  
  
He sends me a genuine smile, much more like himself as we enter the bureau. Almost immediately we run into Tatsumi, which comes as no great shock. The infamous accountant always seems to know when we are coming back in...  
  
Immediately his eyes turn to the injured Watari, "What happened?"  
  
Tsuzuki gave him a grim look, then casts a glance back to me, "I am going to put him in the medical section; get him up to speed while I'm gone, Hisoka."  
  
I can see from Tatsumi's glance that he will not tolerate any further delays in getting information, so I quickly, but carefully, place the sleeping 003 on a table and procure two chairs for us, beginning to explain.  
  
"As you know, Tsuzuki, Watari, and I left to investigate the newest site in the series of recent murders. We wanted to see what I could pick up using my empathy, and to be quite blunt, whether or not Muraki was somehow involved in it. This was confirmed when I touched the bloodstain of the victim; I clearly saw Muraki in my vision."  
  
Giving a sigh, he removes his glasses, rubbing his temples, "I was afraid of it, but it is better to know for certain than merely suspect."  
  
I merely nod my agreement before continuing, "However, I became trapped within myself, reliving the victim's death over and over again. Tsuzuki entered my mind to save me, and an unbreakable bond has formed between us."  
  
Tatsumi raises a single chocolate brown, "Explain."  
  
I had somewhat expected his skepticism, and so I answer evenly, "Well, the bond is unbreakable by either of us at any rate. It allows us to see one another's thoughts and emotions."  
  
He gives me a thoughtful look, but he says nothing against my claim. Then again, this is Tatsumi, after all. He does not waste time stating how impossible something that has already occurred is; he takes that extra time to better digest the information, "Continue."  
  
"After we discovered this strange turn of events, we were attacked by an Oni. Watari was the closest to the beast, and therefore the first attacked. Tsuzuki was immune, as it was Muraki that summoned the monster, and protected me from harm. While Tsuzuki and I attempted to battle as best we would, Watari formed a picture with his own blood and brought it to life, distracting the Oni long enough for Tsuzuki to summon a Guardian."  
  
I pause to give him a moment to allow the information to sink in, then finish, "When Tsuzuki and I turned to check on Watari, we saw that Muraki had appeared and captured 003. He broke the owl's wing, told Watari he would return for him, and escaped."  
  
The accountant's brows knit in thought, "Have you any idea what he might want with Watari?"  
  
It is Tsuzuki who answers him, as he comes down the hall, "I think, when it comes to that, your guess is as good as ours, Tatsumi. I'm not sure ANYONE can understand the way Muraki's mind works."  
  
"I suppose the one thing we can all agree on is that, whatever he is planning, it is not good," I state grimly.  
  
My partner gives a sullen nod, as he moves to stand beside me, "At least we have an excuse to watch him for a few days; we can keep a guard on him as long as he and 003 need medical attention. That broken wing is going to take a while to heal properly..."  
  
Tatsumi nods, "Indeed. Speaking of which, we had better try and find a veterinarian to tend to 003; there is no reason the poor creature should suffer through the night in pain."  
  
Almost on queue, a soft hoot of pain rises from the owl, and I gently stroke his head feathers to soothe him, "Don't worry; we'll find somebody who can take care of you..."  
  
Rising from his chair, Tatsumi also reaches out to stroke the bird, a gesture of affection I would not have associated with him, "Yes. I believe either you or Tsuzuki should go try now; I know it is late, but perhaps one of the animal shelters are open and can at least tell us how to make him comfortable. I shall go and report these events to the chief."  
  
Both my partner and I bow slightly to him before he leaves, and before Tsuzuki can even speak, I scoop 003 into my arms once more, "I will look for the veterinarian; you stay here and watch over Watari. That is what you wish, is it not?"  
  
He seems stunned, but a warm smile breaks over his face, "I guess you probably wouldn't have even needed our link to guess that, right? Don't tell me I'm really THAT predictable!"  
  
Smirking, I give him a teasing reply, "But of course! Isn't that why so many love you? Now go and stand guard duty; I know you would never forgive yourself if anything happened to Watari now."  
  
Tsuzuki swiftly pulls close to me, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead, "Thank you..."  
  
It is good that he quickly goes walks down the hallway; I Can feel a blush spreading across my face. 'Thank goodness no one was here to see this...'  
  
Silently, I walk out the door, cradling the injured owl carefully in my arms. Staring out into the bleak night, I begin my quest.  
  
//Watari\\  
  
When I slowly open my eyes, I feel that momentary disorientation that comes from having been unconscious. Where am I? How did I get here? What has happened since I was last awake? My thoughts are indistinct and fuzzy; I feel that I am still half asleep. I am nice and warm beneath my blankets; I do not wish to move. Yet, that curious, scientist part of my brain refuses to let me leave these mysteries unanswered, and with a yawn, I sit up.  
  
As pain lances through my chest, the flood of recent memories overcomes me. Wincing, I raise my hands to my head, trying to block them out, but even as I do so I know it is no use. Images flash through my mind; the fight with the Oni, being wounded, the picture, and Muraki.   
  
Yes... Muraki, the one I remember the most, the one I wish to forget. His hair gleaming in the moonlight, his eyes just as silver. His mocking smile. I hear the snap of 003's wing; I feel his warm breath on my ear, 'I will come back for you...'  
  
Although terror washes over my heart, it is not my strongest emotion; my confusion is deeper. Why? What possible use could I be to this mad doctor? He does not even know me, except for a passing glance. Is it some sort of measure to hurt Tsuzuki and Hisoka?  
  
As soon as the idea occurs to me, I am forced to think it over, even as I shudder beneath the sheets. Yes... that would seem to be the most logical thing. He has, after all, done similar things to both of my fellow Shinigami before; I know that he has no respect for any form of life, as long as he achieves his goal.  
  
The pain of 003? Directed towards myself, of course; why be satisfied with using me to cause the pain of others when he can go a step further and cause me pain?  
  
The thought, though dark, makes me want to laugh. I cannot even be tormented for my own worth; everything about me is to further along someone else. It is a strangely ironic thing, though a rather depressing one.  
  
'Well, no point in remaining here alone. If I think about this anymore, I dare say I may ACTUALLY go into a depression!'  
  
Immediately when I remove my covers, I feel cold air assail my chest and back. Glancing down, I notice that I am shirtless, though my wounds are wrapped with bandages. They are soaked with blood, but it seems to be old, not fresh.  
  
I suddenly wonder where everyone is. I have a vague memory of Tsuzuki carrying me, which would explain how I arrived here. It is not like the bureau to leave a wounded man unattended; I know that I have sat up many a time with a patient, if for no other reason than to be there to greet them when they awaken.  
  
It saddens me that there is no one here, but the brief burst of emotion does not last. Knowing Tsuzuki, he is probably whipping up some God-awful confectionary creation in an effort to raise my spirits, while Hisoka explains to the higher ups how I got into my injured state.  
  
I wish they had left 003 with me though; I miss my owl companion terribly. Not to mention the fact that I would love to know just how badly he is injured; I only hope the break is clean enough not to cripple him.  
  
With nothing better to distract me, I walk to the window in order to take a look outside. The cherry trees, always in blossom, are a comforting sight. I have always loved to look at them, whether in the golden sunshine or the silvery moonlight; both accent their natural beauty.  
  
I suddenly have an urge to go out amongst those fragrant branches and wander about, leaving behind my troubles, if only for a few moments. Out there, I will not have to worry for 003 or face the new demon that plagues my memories; out there, no one is responsible for me.  
  
Yet, another part of me argues against it. If indeed the deadly Muraki is after me, would it not be foolish to go about frolicking in the flowers, no matter how lovely? I would be putting myself into a compromising position! Not to mention that the others would be worried about me...  
  
The seductive thought lingers, almost caressing my mind. Really? Well, where are the others? If they are not here, worried over me, why would they be any time soon? No, perhaps a nice stroll through the orchard is just what I need. As for Muraki, surely he would not dare to come here? Even if he does, can I not take care of myself, as I have always done?  
  
I look towards my shirt and coat, wincing at the amount of blood on them. I cannot bring myself to put them on, but a quick look about allows me to find a shirt, presumably from the last occupant. It's a bit big, but that may not be a bad thing, considering the bandages wrapped about me.  
  
I stealthily open the window, savoring the sweet, delicate scent of the cherry blossoms that wafts in with the warm, night breeze. Carefully, oh so carefully do I sneak through it, and I cannot help but feel a certain amount of satisfaction as my feet touch the ground. Let them come in and find me gone; let them think that I've been kidnapped. That would teach them to leave someone alone when a killer's after them!  
  
I know the sentiment is childish, but I cannot help but laugh at the mental image of my friends' faces when I sneak up behind them and cheerfully announce I have not been taken at all. There will be scolding, yes, and threats, but eventually there would be relieved laughter and joy. That will make the prank all worth while.  
  
The light breeze continues to rustle the trees, but it is a soft, soothing sound. The inner peace and calm that I am always seeking floods my being; I know it will not last. As soon as I go back, all of the chaos will churn in my soul. I will begin to wonder how best to protect myself and the others; I will come up with theories about the reasoning of Muraki's mind and attempt to add helpful information to a plan to destroy him.  
  
That will entail lots of research; lots of work. Then there will be 003 to take care of, once he gets back from the vet. I will bury myself into my projects, both professional and personal, and I will not think to come have a nice walk like this again for a long time. There is no sadness in this contemplation of my life; it is simply the way it has always been.  
  
I reach up to catch one of the falling petals, and then smile as I drop it, allowing it to finish it's journey to the ground. I think about the poor, empty vase resting on my desk and how long it has been since some fresh flowers have resided in it. Yes, I do believe a few tiny branches would fill it nicely.  
  
I move towards one of the trees, reaching up to stroke some of the blossoms. To my horror, a slim, pale hand covers my own, even as a strong arm slips about my waist and a voice chimes softly, "And here I was thinking it would be so difficult to find you..."  
  
My heart hammering in my chest, I can only think to whisper his name, "Muraki..."  
  
A deep chuckle rises from him, as his lips brush my ear, "Good evening, Watari. Are the cherry blossoms not lovely? If only we had a blood red moon, this would be a perfect night..."  
  
"You did not come here to talk to me of flowers!" I feel my voice waver slightly, and I curse my transparent fear. It unnerves me that he managed to sneak up on me, especially in this place. I felt safe here; this was my shelter! Now my sanctuary has been invaded, riddled with a silver-tongued demon I cannot exorcise, one that holds me close to himself when all I want is for him not to touch me at all!  
  
As if in response to my thoughts, the hand clutching my fingers gives them a light cares before trailing down my arm, making its way to drape across my chest, "No, indeed I did not."  
  
I cannot suppress the shudders running through my body, "What do you wish of me? No more games! You sent that Oni to destroy Hisoka and I, and then suddenly you turned your sights to me! Why? Of what possible use could I be to you?"  
  
"Poor, confused soul, flailing like a bird in a storm, are you? It is really quite simple Watari; I want your blood..."  
  
//Muraki\\  
  
I smile as the man in my arms stiffens. I can almost taste his fear as I hold him, and I lower my voice even more, although there is no one around but the two of us, "Is that not what you wanted to know? Does my answer displease you? I could have lied to you, pretty bird, but I did not. Should I have done so?"  
  
"But... why? Why me, over Hisoka or anyone else?"  
  
I rest my chin in the sea of soft golden hair before me, turning my voice to silk, "Your blood holds the power that I seek; no other does. I do dearly crave that boy's blood; the sweetness of it, the beautiful color of it on his flesh. Yet the need for yours is greater and for quite a different reason. I need your blood to perform a resurrection..."  
  
He strains to pull away from me, but I do not loosen my grip, and I hear him gasp in pain before speaking again, "You think... my blood has the power to bring people to life? Did you think this from the battle against the Oni? I hate to be the one to inform you... that you are sadly mistaken. My blood holds no mystical powers."  
  
I have seen many people beg for their lives. Men, women, children; all sound the same to me. Some shed tears; some merely scream for mercy. Fathers with dependant families show how much they are needed to help the others survive; mothers tearfully list the names and ages of their children. Young people of both genders offer themselves, body and soul, if I will only let them live to see another dawn. Small children merely exhibit every fiber of their fear.  
  
There are some who do not beg, of course. These are the fighters, those who strike without warning, using every weapon they possibly can to survive. Even when they are taking their dying breath, they never allow a plea for mercy to cross their lips. These have always been the ones that I have found kinship with, these proud few who will not admit defeat.  
  
To have someone in my arms, completely in my power, to feel them shudder with fear and then tell me, his voice eerily calm that I am completely mistaken in my desire of their death unnerves me. What sort of man says such a thing?  
  
Taking my silence as a bad sign, his body tenses even more, as his cultured voice fills the air, "You misinterpreted by shinigami power from what you saw. I can draw pictures and then bring them to life; the blood I used had nothing whatsoever to do with the process. Ink, paint, or anything else would have sufficed just as well."  
  
Releasing him from my embrace, I spin him about so I can see his face, grasping his shoulders. His golden eyes are wide behind the lens of his glasses, but just as penetrating as ever. He meets my gaze readily, and my curiosity grows. I can read the terror in those eyes, can see it written in every part of him, yet he tries to stand strong. Why?  
  
I narrow my own eyes, "Why should I believe what you say, my dear Watari? This could simply be a ploy to continue your life; perhaps your blood can indeed do what I desire."  
  
"You are, of course, correct. However, what if you are wrong? What if you kill me and take my blood, and then you receive no results? Would it not be more logical simply to take me alive, test this other explanation I have offered you, and then make a decision? You will have me near you, and as a doctor, you can test various blood samples to try and prove your theory. You can always kill me again if I do indeed lie; there is no way you can lose."  
  
Now he lowers his eyes, staring at the ground, "I do not wish to die, that is true. However, I would hate even more for my death to come as a result of a confusion! If you are going to kill me, I want it to be for something other than this false mysticism! I will go with you willingly before I allow that to happen!"  
  
Truly astounding. I cannot help the smirk that rises to my face. So this is the source of his strength: his scientific mind. He does not mind dying at the hands of a psychotic killer; he simply does not want to die over something that he knows to be false. He wants the cause of his death to be logical, and for that he is willing to place himself in the hands of a murderer.  
  
Cupping his chin in my hand, I force him to look up again, "You seem to indicate you are willing to come with me of your own accord or do I misinterpret you?"  
  
Watari nods, slowly, "Perhaps it would be better for me to say I am willing to bargain with you. I will come with you willingly, doing whatever task you ask of me, no matter what the risk to myself. In return, you will not kill any more innocents to lure Tsuzuki out, and you will not try to harm Hisoka during the time I am with you."  
  
Smiling, I cock my head, "You are truly in no position to be making such propositions to anyone. Tell me, why should I bind myself to this contract when I can simply steal you away."  
  
"If you try, I will take a knife and plunge into my own heart. If I cannot find a knife, I will find another way. If these terms are not agreed upon, then I am not going to allow you to benefit in anyway from me. You can try the blood after that; I guarantee it will not work." Life has returned to his voice, and now a humorless smile crosses his lips, "Is jeopardizing your goal worth the risk? You really do not strike me as much of a gambling man, and if you are, then surely you must for the side with better odds."  
  
I have been trying to fathom the mind of the most unusual man, and this proposal forces me to realize something about his character. He feels he is totally worthless; he truly does not care what happens to him, so long as others are safe. His co-workers, his friends, even people he does not know... all come before himself in the scheme of things.  
  
I am forced to wonder what events in his human life led to this belief; I am forced to wonder if his friends even know the deepness of his despair. Because that is an emotion he lives with, the feelings of worthlessness, the self-hatred, overwhelming, black despair...  
  
And now he is waltzing into my hands! He is asking me to take him! To take such feelings and make them even darker... that shall be a delightful task. I can teach him torments he has never dreamed of, and every moment I can know that I have him completely and utterly in my power.  
  
He closes his eyes, giving a mirthless laugh, "It is a Devil's bargain, and I know it; you need not try to hide your feelings about it. Yet, what have you to lose?"  
  
I am interested, and I do not try to hide the fact. This venture may turn out to be even more profitable than I had ever hoped for. Smiling, I nod, "I accept your offer."  
  
Relief shines through his eyes, but it does not do so for long before I strike a blow to his temple, rendering him unconscious immediately. Lifting him into my arms, I marvel at how truly lucky I am to have come across such a catch. Saki can still be resurrected; my lovely Tsuzuki will still be safe. Not to mention that I have a new toy to play with...  
  
Looking down at him, in my arms, I cannot help but chuckle softly, "I only hope that you realize what you are truly getting yourself into..." 


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Note: As always, I think all of my readers and reviewers for their support. I would like to extend special thanks to Kara, who has become an online friend and drew me a picture for my birthday, Mainframe, for her in-depth and flattering review, Monou Hakkai, another flatterer, and Aqua Drageen and Gingivere the Shadowreaver, my two best friends in real life; you all inspire me more than you can ever know.  
  
Special Notes: I am attempting some character depth into Tatsumi. Let us all hope it comes out well. ^-^; The chapter is a little bit longer than usual, since I had extra time to work on it. It's also been posted a bit early. I can't believe I updated so fast. O_O I just hope nobody finds it too boring. _ _  
  
'' indicates thoughts or telepathy  
  
//|| indicates POV  
  
//Tsuzuki\\  
  
I hum merrily as I walk down the hallway, a tray carefully balanced in my hands. It took me far longer to locate the tea then I had planned, but thankfully I still had some cake stashed away at my desk. Well... many cakes, to be precise, of various types and flavors. Not knowing which my friend would prefer, I had decided to play it safe and brought all of them. Watari, much like the rest of us, should be more than happy to have a sweet snack waiting for him when he wakes up.  
  
When I reach the door to his room, I am struck with a dilemma. With both hands needed to hold the tray, I cannot turn the handle. I could, of course, try to balance everything on one hand, but the mental image of it all crashing to the floor is simply too real for me to risk it.  
  
I cannot knock and ask Watari to open it; that is simply foolish! The poor, injured man needs his rest; it would be like room service telling you to come down and get your breakfast yourself!  
  
I have just about decided to place the tray on the ground and look positively silly by picking it back up in my friend's presence when another hand appears on the handle, "Here, Tsuzuki; allow me to help you."  
  
I recognize the voice to be Tatsumi's, and I smile at him gratefully, "Thank you; I suppose I should have thought ahead and been prepared for this problem..."  
  
Shrugging, he stares at me with calm blue eyes, "Difficulties appear before us every day; it is merely the way we handle the situations that matters. You can not live without expecting problems to arise."  
  
"Too true," I acknowledge. "How about we open the door and force Watari to deal with the problem of having three people attempt to share tea with only two cups?"  
  
"It will be my pleasure..."  
  
As soon as the door opens, I spread a smile across my face and pull out my most cheerful voice, "Oh Watari! You have visitors!"  
  
However, my happiness soon fades as I stare at the room before me. It is completely empty, save for the bloody clothes removed from the injured scientist. The blankets have been pushed aside, and the window is open, allowing cherry blossoms to float in, creating a thin, pink layer over the floor.  
  
My hands become nerveless; the tray crashes to the floor, sending shards of porcelain and countless desserts into a miserable heap. I have no care in the world for that now, as I rush to the window, staring out into the night.  
  
There is no sign of Watari, no sign of a struggle, but I feel fear and panic rise in my heart, "Damn it! If Muraki has him I will never forgive myself!"  
  
"Tsuzuki! Wait!"  
  
I hear Tatsumi's cry, but I ignore it; he will attempt to stop me, to calm me. There is no time for such things! Even as I hurry out the window and into the orchard, I know that Watari's life could be in danger.  
  
I curse my own stupidity. How could I have been so foolish for the second time on this night? I could have sent someone else for the damned tea; I should have been standing guard! How many misfortunes is it going to take for me to get my act together?!  
  
I see nothing on the ground, and I take to the air, skimming the area swiftly. As my eyes comb over the many trees, a spot of white appears, and with a hiss, I fly towards it. As I grow closer, I begin to make out the outline of another being, and as my feet hit the ground, I shout, "MURAKI!"  
  
Calmly, oh so calmly does he turn to face me, his all too familiar smile set on his face, "Ah, my beloved. I was wondering if you were going to try and stop me at all."  
  
An unconscious Watari lies in his arms, his head resting against Muraki's chest as the doctor holds him carefully. With a tilt of his head, he indicates my friend, "This is what you are seeking, is it not?"  
  
Clutching my hands into fists, I do not try to hide my rage, "You know it is. Can you not leave him in peace? Has he not suffered enough this night?!"  
  
"No, my lovely doll, apparently he has not. He allowed himself to fall into my hands, after all," Muraki responds, cocking his head. "Quite an interesting catch, this scientist of yours. Would you believe that he willingly decided to come with me?"  
  
"Do you think I am a fool? Watari would never do such a thing," I snap, taking a step closer to him. "You will not take him!"  
  
"How your amethyst eyes continue to gleam with anger; it forces me to wonder how beautiful they would be in the peak of passion... However, that is contemplation for another night, a sweet nocturnal interlude that I will cherish. I must show my guest home."   
  
The smile never fades from his lips as he looks at me, and as always when he does so, I cannot shake the feeling that he is somehow looking deeper, staring into my soul, "I know that you do not believe me, Tsuzuki. Yet, I promise you that it is the truth. I merely hope that I see you soon, in more pleasant circumstances so that I may better try to convince you..."  
  
I narrow my eyes, a mere two feet from him now, "What makes you think that I will allow you to leave this place with him? I have already told you; I will not allow you to take him! I do not care what he told you; you do not know a thing about him!"  
  
Now Muraki chuckles, "Is that so? I do believe I know one or two things about him that not even you do, beloved, things that you would never think existed beneath the shell he surrounds himself with..."  
  
"Regardless of what you think, Tsuzuki is correct. You will not leave this place with Watari..."  
  
I recognize the voice as Tatsumi's, and I see him emerge from the shadows of the trees, his arms folded across his chest. His sapphire blue eyes are as laser beams, cold and penetrating, and I can hardly suppress a shiver, although they are not directed at me. It has been a long time since I have seen Tatsumi this enraged...  
  
Muraki's smile only deepens, "Ah yes, Secretary Tatsumi. I believe the last time you graced me with your presence was at Kyoto, no?"  
  
His lips set in a thin line, my former partner nods, "Indeed. Apparently you have forgotten what I told you then, and it has come time to remind you. To lay a hand on one of the employees beneath me... is to entail my wrath."  
  
The black aura of Tatsumi's shadow power swirls about him, and my eyes widen in slight fear. If he attacks Muraki now, then Watari will undoubtedly be hurt. Surely he will not take such a risk?  
  
Evidently our mutual enemy agrees with my thought, tightening his hold on the man in his arms, and the only sign of his slight annoyance is the miniscule narrowing of his silver eyes, "I am sorry, Tatsumi; your parental instincts will have to be laid at rest for now. I simply must get poor Mister Watari out of the elements; I do not wish to have to deal with a sick patient so early in the game. We shall have to settle this... another time."  
  
I give a cry as a white glow surrounds him, knowing all too well what will happen next, "NO! MURAKI!"  
  
Tatsumi gives a curse, and a single ebony tendril rapidly extends towards the psychotic doctor. It is too late; the radiance of the light continues to grow, until it vanishes entirely. Muraki is gone, and with him, Watari, the man I was supposed to be protecting.  
  
"NO! DAMN IT ALL!" I give a scream, falling to my knees. In my fury, I beat my fists against the grassy ground, ignoring the sting it causes. Tears rapidly fill my eyes, and I do not try to stop them, "WHY?! WHY CAN I NEVER SEEM TO STOP THIS FROM HAPPENING?!"  
  
'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'  
  
Hisoka's voice flashes in my mind, and I grasp the link gratefully, sending all of my pain and anguish through, 'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'  
  
'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'  
  
Hisoka grows silent, but I can feel two strong hands on my shoulders, and as I raise my eyes, a bleary picture of Tatsumi comes into focus, "Tsuzuki... no more of this. This pain is what Muraki wants; do not give in to him!"  
  
"Tatsumi... this is my fault..."  
  
Those fierce azure eyes bear into me, but they soften, and his voice becomes quiet, "Listen to me Tsuzuki. This is not your fault; I know Hisoka has probably already assured you of that through your link. Now, I am telling you the same. I should not have hesitated to attack. I have lost us Watari, but I swear to you that I will stop at nothing to get him back. Like you, he is under my wing, my protection; I would search for you or Hisoka to the ends of the earth, and I will do the same for him."  
  
Such sentiment coming from Tatsumi, a wealth of feeling I have never seen before. I knew he felt protective of me, but to see him now, so concerned over my fellow shinigami allows me some insight I have never had. He cares for us all, in his own gruff way; while he has been acting in the role of an elder brother to me, he has been playing father to everyone else.  
  
I cannot contain the sobs that begin to form, and he does not question it, pulling me into his arms and lying my head against his chest, "Let the blame fall on me... as I am the guilty one, Tsuzuki. Do not torment yourself anymore..."  
  
Closing my eyes, I wrap my arms around him, "As you wish... Tatsumi..."  
  
//Hisoka\\  
  
The more I search for someone to help 003, the more I thank fate for never granting me a pet. I have been to three veterinary clinics already; all three have been closed. Is there not at least one animal doctor who realizes that sometimes animals are hurt at night as well?  
  
It deepens my frustration when the poor creature awakes, a soft hoot his only sign of discomfort. He should not have to suffer this way! All he did was attempt to protect his master; loyalty should be rewarded, not punished. All I can do to sooth him is stroke his head feathers very gently, and even that makes him shiver.  
  
I am on my way to an animal shelter now. True, this is not a veterinarian's practice, but surely they must have somebody on hand that would know how to fix the wing of an injured bird?  
  
I will not know until I try, and I knock on the door, "Hello? Is anyone in there?"  
  
"Just a moment, please!" The door opens, revealing a smiling woman of about forty. She beckons for me to come inside, her hazel eyes taking a glance over 003, "Oh my... what happened to him? The poor dear looks like he's had a bad accident."  
  
Nodding, I pass the bird to her awaiting arms, "A very cruel man snapped his wing, and I had no knowledge of how to deaden the pain. I simply tried to find someone to help him as soon as possible."  
  
"You did the right thing, young man. His wing is definitely broken, but I won't be sure of the extent of the damage until I run an x-ray. By the way, I am Doctor Sanami Hikaru[1]." She extends a hand, and I take it, not wishing to offend her.  
  
The rush of memories and emotions that flow through please me. She has dedicated her entire life to the care of animals; while still in school, she had to wait to get her injured pet to a clinic since it got sick at night. That inspired her to keep her own shelter open after the others had closed. I wish I could thank her for being so wise.  
  
Doctor Sanami releases me and begins to head towards the back, indicating with a jerk of her head for me to follow, "I hope you don't mind, but I have to ask you a few questions. First of all; is this a wild animal?"  
  
The question surprises me slightly, but I suppose it truly shouldn't. After all, 003 is an animal, and I never have known of too many people who kept one as a pet, "No. He belongs to a friend of mine, who was sadly injured and unable to bring him."  
  
She nods, resting the bird carefully on a small table, "He seemed pretty tame." She runs her hands over the wing, and when 003 gives a cry of pain, she merely murmurs softly to him, "Easy there boy... just a preliminary check to see what I can see..."  
  
Within a few moments, she calls for a nurse, who takes the wide-eyed 003 away. I move to follow, but the doctor shakes her head, "It's alright; that's our x-ray technician. She'll bring us the pictures just as soon as they are done. Now, what is the name of the owl?"  
  
"003," I pause at her raised eyebrow. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
She gives a chuckle, writing it on the chart, "Well, no. It's just a strange name; don't you think? It's a number after all; nothing really personal about it."  
  
Blinking, I shrug, "Watari named him, not me. I have never heard either one of them complain."  
  
"Watari is the name of the owner then? Could I have his full name and address?"  
  
I hesitate before speaking, "Is that really necessary?"  
  
Doctor Sanami gives me a smile, "It is only for file purposes; our records are strictly confidential. This information is merely in case something should go wrong while the animal is in our care; we want to be able to inform the owner immediately."  
  
"Well, I brought him in. Would my information do?"  
  
"Why, of course! Is there some reason you do not want your friend to be contacted?"  
  
I nod, admitting as much of the truth as I dare, "You see, when he and his owl were attacked, he was hurt badly. He is in the hospital right now, and I do not want the first thing he hears when he wakes up to be that there is something wrong with his pet."  
  
Sympathy rises in the eyes of the doctor, and she murmurs, "Yes, I quite understand. Your name then please?"  
  
"Hisoka Kurosaki."  
  
Before she can ask me my place of residence, the nurse returns with the x-ray pictures. I cannot help but give a sigh of relief as she places her clipboard aside and takes me over to a screen to view them, "Well, the good news is that this is a nice, clean break. This should have no problem healing at all, and there will be no permanent scars or crippling."  
  
She turns teal eyes towards me, "I'd like to keep him here overnight. That should give us enough time to set his wound properly. You can return for him in tomorrow; my brother, who shares partnership of this clinic, works the daytime shift."  
  
I accept the proposition readily, "That will be fine. I shall come for him tomorrow then. Thank you Doctor Sanami!"  
  
"Mister Hisoka? Wait! I still haven't gotten your add-"  
  
The shutting of the door cuts her off, and I breath a sign of relief as I walk down the street. That saves me the trouble of trying to think of an address on the spot; a more elegant solution could not have been found.  
  
I only take a few steps before a jolt of pain stabs at my heart, and I give a gasp, as I realize where it comes from, 'Tsuzuki? Tsuzuki are you okay?'  
  
'Hisoka... Muraki took him! Muraki has Watari! And it's all my fault...'  
  
A sequence of events appear in my mind, ending with Tatsumi's attack on Muraki, and I hasten to reassure him, 'No; it is not. Everything will be fine; you did nothing wrong. I will come as soon as I can. Stay with Tatsumi for now, and please do not be so harsh on yourself... my love...'  
  
As I feel his relief flood through me, I wonder why I added the last. I know that I love Tsuzuki, but I have never been the type to admit such feelings in words. Perhaps it is because we are so closely linked that I can be so honest with him?  
  
Regardless, I phase into my invisible form, rushing to get back to the Investigations Bureau as quickly as I can. I know that Tsuzuki and Tatsumi will be in the cherry tree grove; I even know the exact spot. It is merely getting there that will take time.  
  
I rematerialize in the orchard, running the remaining length, "Tsuzuki?! Tsu-"  
  
I freeze in mid-step, my eyes widening. There, beneath the cherry trees, sat Tatsumi, his arms around Tsuzuki, who sobbed into his chest. Soft, pink petals float from the over abundant branches, although neither of them move in response to them. It is a tender, loving gesture, and before I can stop it, a red-hot lash of jealousy strikes my heart. I am the one supposed to be tending to Tsuzuki; I am the one who is supposed to give my partner comfort and love!  
  
Was it not Tatsumi himself who had told me this so long ago, in Kyoto? Had he not, when I asked him to stay and comfort Tsuzuki, tell me that from then on I was on my own in doing so? I cannot keep the envy I feel out, and I seethe in silence.  
  
'Hisoka... Hisoka, please don't be angry. It hurts...'  
  
Hearing Tsuzuki's mental plea causes the negative emotion to vanish, as I kneel beside Tatsumi to look at him. I am forced to recall that day, so long ago it seems, that I told him how much his anger hurt me. Look at what I have done now; I have put him through that very same pain.  
  
His amethyst eyes, bright with tears fix on me, and he leaves one embrace to enter into another. As he sobs in my arms, I soothe him, 'Tsuzuki, I am sorry. I will not be angry; I will not be jealous anymore.'  
  
'Just.. hold me for a few moments... before we go back and try to decide what to do. Just hold me...'  
  
Stroking his hair, I nod, whispering aloud, "I promise. I will never let you go..."   
  
//Muraki\\  
  
It is late in the morning when I awaken, a penalty I pay, no doubt, from my excursions last night. However, it is a small price to pay indeed, for the good fortune that has befallen me.  
  
I know without a doubt that I will see my Tsuzuki soon; he will refuse to believe that his friend has come to me of his own accord. The challenge from the infamous Tatsumi, Secretary of the Investigations Bureau, exhilarates me in another fashion. The subtlest change on my part can result in any number of responses from these two men; the possibilities are endless.  
  
Still, the greatest prize may very well be the scientist who sleeps peacefully in my mansion. After the light blow I delivered to him, he had not moved again, not even when I removed his shirt to check on the status of his wounds. It had been no surprise to see them healed; I had taken the liberty of unwinding the soiled bandages and throwing them away.  
  
Speaking of my little bird, I should probably go to see him. A quick glance at the clock reveals it to be 11:45. Wonderful; a meeting over an early lunch seems the best course of action.  
  
A quick shower washes away the grime of the previous night, and a fresh change of clothing completes the beginning of a new day. Noon precisely, exactly as I'd planned.  
  
The room in which my quest rests is down the hallway from my own, so it takes no time at all for me to reach it. I open the door quietly; it does not surprise me to see that he is still asleep.  
  
I move to stand over him, using one hand to brush some of his golden hair from his face, "Rise and shine, my little bird."  
  
Without ever opening his eyes, Watari gives a yawn, turning to lie on his stomach, "Five more minutes..."  
  
Smirking, I allow my hand to trail down his bare flesh, "It is already past noon; surely you do not intend to lay in bed all day."  
  
He stiffens at the touch, and I barely have time to remove my hand before he returns to his former position and sits up, "What are you doing?!"  
  
Staring deep into those wide, golden eyes, I merely continue to smile at him, "Attempting to wake you for lunch, Watari. If you would rise and get dressed, I know of a charming Italian restaurant near by."  
  
He blinks, but says nothing as he rises out of bed and slips on the over-sized shirt I had left lying on the chair beside the window. When he steps in front of the mirror, his hands rise to his hair, but he soon lowers them, "I forgot... I don't have anything to put it up with. Down it shall be then."  
  
Seemingly satisfied, he turns to me, "I am ready when you are."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, I give him a critical glance over, and I shake my head, "As soon as we are done with lunch, you are going to receive a new wardrobe; I simply cannot be seen with someone who does not dress appropriately."  
  
His hand is already on the doorknob, and he pauses, "Appropriately for what? My only role here is to complete a job, correct? Aside from this outing, will I not be confined to the premises?"  
  
"That remains to be seen. I am a man of strange moods. Come along."  
  
I brush past him into the hallway, obtaining my coat from a rack beside the door. He does not utter a word of protest, merely following me as we begin to walk down the street. His eyes remain downcast the entire trip; I grab his arm to keep him from passing the restaurant up.  
  
In a flash he looks up, his voice quiet, "Let go."  
  
At last, a bit of spirit rising. I lean closer, to murmur in his ear, "What will you do if I do not?"  
  
Anger rises in his gleaming eyes, but it seems to be directed more at himself than me, "What can I do? I came with you of my own accord; I have no right to tell you what to do or not."  
  
These words trouble me. Where is the strength I have glimpsed in him before? Where is that spirit that I was only moments before lusting to break? Surely he is not so weak, so soon!  
  
As if in answer to my thoughts, he speaks a bit softer, so that my ears alone can catch the words, "However, if you do not release me now, when I ask, I will wait until you are forced to and strike with whatever weapon is handiest, and I will be sure the resulting injury is painful."  
  
The threat is neither frightening nor powerful, but it is enough to satisfy me. I release him, turning so that he will not see my smile, "Wonderful, my little bird. Come now; I am sure you are hungry."  
  
Obtaining a table for two takes literally no time at all; I frequent this restaurant so often that they keep such a table waiting. I note with satisfaction that a bottle of red wine is brought promptly and served, even before our orders are taken.  
  
The waiter has served me before, and he asks, "The veal cutlet on angel hair pasta with extra marinara sauce as usual, sir?[2]"  
  
I give him a nod, and he turns to Watari, "And for you sir?"  
  
"The manicotti.[3] And a glass of water, if you would be so kind."  
  
Taking a sip of my wine, I watch with interest as he pushes his glass away, "You do not care for wine?"  
  
He shakes his head, "No; wine does not care for me. It only takes a glass or two for me to become horribly intoxicated, and I am certain that you wish to discuss business. That would be difficult if I am drowning in a case of the hiccups and cannot form a coherent sentence, correct?"  
  
Fiddling with my own glass, I glance slyly over the rim at him, "Indeed. Yet, I cannot help but think it would be worth the time to see such a thing. I bet you look glorious when you are not fully in control of your self..."  
  
While this statement would have earned a deep blush and an outcry from my beloved Tsuzuki, the only change to the man sitting across from me the redness that rises to his face, as he smoothly moves back to the previous topic, "One thing puzzles me though. Knowing what I do about Maria Wong, I do not understand why you cannot perform this task on your own. Is it not a similar concept?"  
  
Lacing my fingers together, I rest my chin upon them, "It would be, if the body was in the same state. All I have of Saki is his head..."  
  
Tilting his head, my companion regards me with a slightly puzzled expression, "I see. In that case, what you wish for me to do is to create a body for this Saki?"  
  
"Precisely."  
  
"But why? What is this person to you, that you want them back so badly?"  
  
I narrow my eyes, "Think carefully before you ask that, my dear Watari. You may not truly wish to know my reasons."  
  
"But I do! How can I create a product to your satisfaction if I do not know what it is being designed for?"  
  
The earnestness and honesty in his expression convince me that he truly desires the knowledge, and I stare down into my wine glass, "Saki was my bastard half-brother, only a little older than I. He killed my parents and attempted to kill me. His attempt was stopped by my bodyguard, who shot him. I want to bring Saki back... because I desire revenge."  
  
Watari ceases to nibble upon his breadstick, "Why? Was not his death enough to avenge those of your parents?"  
  
"No! One quick, painless death is nowhere near enough!" I tighten my grip slightly on the glass, never looking up, never raising my voice beyond an angry whisper. "I want to hear him plead for his life, feel his heartbeat slowly fade within my grasp! I have spent my entire life planning for this moment; no one can take that joy from me!"  
  
I silence myself quickly as the waiter reappears with our meal, and I force the last remaining bits of emotion into slicing up my meat. It has been quite a long time since I have allowed such sentiments to surface in the presence of another; I cannot believe I have come so close to losing my carefully cultivated calm.  
  
I glance at the scientist while he eats, noting the meticulous way he cuts his meal. The silver knife glides with a deadly precision under his hand; not a single morsel of food ever shows any sign of escaping. In a way, he shows a ruthlessness that seems shocking in one so seemingly gentle, a predatory aspect that no one would expect.  
  
A heavy stillness forms over the meal, until my guest takes the last bite of his food, giving me a thoughtful look, "Interesting. I cannot imagine dedicating your life to revenge like that... all of those murders you committed simply to attain one ultimate death."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, I take another sip of wine, "Oh? Then perhaps you understand better why you seem so strangely eager to assist such a cold-hearted murderer, one who would not think twice about killing you?"  
  
The tiniest inkling of fear appears in his eyes, but he covers it with false mirth, his joyous laughter filling the air, "What ever do you mean? I feel we are engaged in a fair trade. I help you complete your lifetime dream of revenge, and in return, a few less deaths occur at your hands."  
  
"What of you then, you who would help the enemy so easily? Have you given any thought to your own well-being?" I smile at him, loving the way his long fingers tighten slightly on his silver ware, even as he struggles to maintain a strong expression, "You are a pigeon in the talons of a hawk, my dear Watari. At any given moment, you can become the prey. Does that not frighten you?"  
  
He licks his lips, "I would be lying if I said it did not. I choose, however, not to give into my fear; it is only when I do so that I have given myself up to you completely."  
  
I yearn to take him suddenly, pull him in my arms and watch his strength slip slowly away. I settle for covering one of his hands with my own as we rise, peering into his cat-like yellow eyes, "I cannot wait... for when that day comes."  
  
A cloud of defiance settles over his features, "That will never be."  
  
"We shall see, my little bird. We shall see..." I take my hand away, signaling to the waiter to bring the check, "This adventure of ours has only just begun..."  
  
//Watari\\  
  
How does one best describe an outing with a mad man? Perhaps the best place to start... is that sometimes he does not appear mad at all. He is calm and polite in his manner, clean in his dress, and I do not have to mention his sheer physical beauty. I have no shame in admitting this; I would have to be foolish not to see why people are attracted to this man.  
  
Silver hair, silver eyes. Pale, flawless skin. Tall, well-built. Clothes all in white; white as an angel. An angel with glasses and two red studs in his ears, the only amount of color anywhere upon him.  
  
If I had no prior knowledge of Muraki's crimes, I would probably be unable to convince myself he was capable of such brutality. Since I do, I find myself noting small details in his person that another may overlook.  
  
For one thing, although his voice seems at first to calm and soothe, I realize that it is so frigid that it merely makes one spellbound and numb, unable to feel or think whatever it was one had been before. Never once does he address you as a person; he associates you with something else. With Tsuzuki, I note it is a doll. For myself, a bird. This changing of other human beings into lesser creatures and objects probably makes it easier for him to kill.  
  
As for his eyes... that look could pierce steel. He does not look at a person but through them; he searches through the darkest depths of your soul, pulling aspects of yourself that you had forgotten or wanted hidden from view. Or, if he isn't actually doing so, it certainly feels as though he is.  
  
I will not say that I am comfortable in the company of an enemy; I do not know if it is even possible to be comfortable around Muraki. It seems as though he is always and never changing. In one breath he can compliment you and insult you, praise you and scold you. His calm demeanor never varies, nor does the secretive smile upon his face fade.  
  
After our meal, he makes good on his promise to take me to get some clothes for my continued stay. As I walk through the streets, I am beginning to believe it was more of a threat then a promise.  
  
He drags me into store after store; I have tried on so many changes of clothes that I cannot even keep them straight anymore! Colors swim before my eyes, mostly blues, browns, and greens; for some reason he seems to like these. Of course, there is also cream, white, and black for all practical occasions. I had managed, somehow, to convince him to go to the discount store where I bought my own clothes. A few pairs of pants and shirts and we were done there. At least I know I have SOMETHING in all of this that I am used to![4]  
  
As we leave that store, I see a single, silvery eyebrow raise as he asks, "Is this all you rate yourself worthy of? A second hand store?"  
  
I shrug, adding these new bags to the pile I already hold, "It doesn't really matter to me; clothing is clothing, right? All it does is cover up your nakedness; that's all it's designed to do."  
  
He shakes his head, placing his hands into the pockets of his coat, "I believe you are wrong, Watari. Clothing can tell much about the person who wears it, whether it be the truth or a lie. If someone is dressed beautifully, then you can assume that that person is beautiful, in their own eyes if in no one else's. If someone dresses carelessly, you can assume they have no one to care for them. Clothing is the colorful wrapping paper over a gift; it can make something horrible seem lovely and something beautiful ugly. It can be used to hide your soul... or to express it."  
  
I find myself hanging to each one of his carefully chosen words, almost enchanted by the logic behind them, "And for you? What does your clothing do for you?"  
  
"What do you think, little scientist?"  
  
Another mind game, another puzzle to crack. I consider it for a moment before responding, "I think that you... do both. You hide yourself behind your immaculate whites; everyone thinks they make you look celestial. They see white and think of purity and light, and they begin to associate you with that ideal. But you... you see white for what it truly is. Stark, lifeless... and cold. So, in your eyes, it accurately expresses who you are."  
  
With a chuckle, his gaze slides to me, "Marvelous. Though, this leads us to ask... what does your choice of clothing express about you?"  
  
"That I am a man who does not care what others think," I respond quickly, smiling with good humor.  
  
That vanishes however as his eyes remains on me, and he speaks in that velvety voice of his, "Oh? I think, perhaps, that is not true. I think it is a sign of an unconscious feeling of worthlessness; no one will ever look at you in a way in which you would wish to attract them, so why dress beautifully? You bear the symbols of your trade as a scientist, but you do not attempt to make yourself known as anything else. You are a male bird with no plumage, being looked over by others of the species.[5]"  
  
I suddenly realize just how close he is to me when I feel his warm breath brush my ear, "Yet, this is what you want. Why? Why do you hide yourself away from the world? What has happened to you... to make you feel so worthless, to make you believe you are so utterly alone?"  
  
I jerk away from him, my heartbeat rushing as heat floods my face, my voice a hiss, "What I feel, what I think is none of your concern! Why do you wish to know these things? Why do they matter to you?!"  
  
That same smile graces his face, and he turns his back to me, his voice a sensuous whisper, "I have told you, my little bird. I cannot wait for the day I possess you completely; all of you, mind, body, spirit. I will delve into this darkness that inhabits your soul before you leave me; I will gain pleasure from you in many ways. You will hold no secrets from me..."  
  
A shiver runs down my spine, and I cannot stop the slight quiver in my words, "No. My secrets are my own; you cannot take them from me. No one can. Anything you wish to know... you shall have to figure out on your own."  
  
"Then, that shall be the first great game between us. However, perhaps it is best for us now to return home. After we dispense with these parcels, I can show you where you will begin working."  
  
This abrupt change in attitude and conversation relieves me, although I know I should be probably be alarmed instead; work is a topic I can cover with ease. Quickening my pace to match his, I make sure we are side by side before speaking, "Am I right in assuming that you wish for me to create a body that will use the head of your dead brother instead of an artificial one?"  
  
"You are indeed. I had hoped that the cloning technology created by my late mentor would help me to create a perfect clone of Saki; alas, he worried more about creating various parts of the human body instead of a whole one. And of course, I had not the time to discover anything particularly useful from my beloved Tsuzuki; he stabbed me before I could experiment too much upon him."  
  
With that, I let the matter drop, subsiding into silence. He unnerves me more with each statement he makes, but I refuse to show it. I will not become weak now; I must complete this job! I must remember why it is that I am working for this man, this man who I have always considered to be an enemy.  
  
When we return to the mansion, I place the bags in the room he indicates to me, then follow him to the back of the house, as he speaks, "After the last encounter with you and your fellow shinigami, I barely managed to save Saki. I did not have any other place to put him really, so I converted the part of the mansion my grandfather had made into a hospital into a laboratory in order to hold him. It should have everything you require; if not, simply tell me and I shall arrange for it to be brought to you."  
  
When we reach the place he mentions, my mouth drops slightly. This place is a scientist's dream! Everywhere I look I can see computers of the highest caliber and quality, stocks of chemicals and supplies for any experiment you could wish to do. Tatsumi would never allow me to have a lab like this, never in a million years, and I do not think I would blame him. He would not allow it for the cost; I would not allow it because I would be afraid I would never step out again.  
  
I feel like the proverbial kid in a candy store, but I cannot stop myself from wandering about, stroking some of the instruments gently with two fingers. Muraki's footsteps make a distinct sound as he follows me, "You seem pleased, Watari."  
  
I hesitate, but see no harm in speaking my mind, "I am not only pleased but impressed; this is certainly one of the finest labs I have ever been in. And, I have seen many, many labs in my time."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
Nodding, I peer into one of the drawers, which turns out to be full of drawing supplies. I take out a pencil, fidgeting with it slightly, "Well, whenever I was alive, I used to work freelance. You know how it is; every company has different standards for their labs. I remember whenever Akira used to-"  
  
I stop myself in mid-sentence, even though I hear Muraki's purr, "Yes? You were saying, Watari?"  
  
I shake my head, giving a false laugh as I replace the pencil, "N-nothing important..." I give a slight curse. What is WRONG with me?! I have never revealed this much of my past life to anyone; why would I do so to him? This lab setting... I must have forgotten myself. It feels so much like home...  
  
I notice a large set of doors in the very back of the lab, and I walk over to them, "Where do these lead?"  
  
Staying close to me, almost uncomfortably close, he murmurs, "I do not suppose that you would believe that I do not wish for you to go in there, and that if you do, you will find the decomposing bodies of many women hanging around on hooks?"  
  
I stiffen, unable to tell if he is joking or not. Finally, I swallow back the knot in my throat to respond, "Well, I never pictured you as much of a Blue Beard killer..."  
  
His chuckle may as well be a caress, "I am not; I find it much easier to simply kill a woman quickly, rather than marry her, put her through the torments of her own curiosity, and then use her as a way to kill other women. I think the whole Blue Beard ideal would be a bit of waste. Some people are not even worth torturing..."  
  
I feel a hand run down the curve of my back, and my throat becomes suddenly dry, but I keep a poker face, "Oh? I suppose you expect me to believe that Tsuzuki and Hisoka are honored then for your interest?"  
  
The wandering hand slides a return journey up my spine, up to caress my neck and tangle in my hair, "They are such fun, but not who I had in mind right at the moment..."  
  
I do not hesitate; in an instant I pull myself away, ignoring the slight protest the roots of my hair give. I try and keep my face expressionless, even though I know I cannot possibly hide my discomfort, and I turn away from him, "I want to see where the door leads."  
  
"Very well then; stand aside."  
  
I do as he commands, allowing him to open the door and beckon me inside, "Saki... I have brought someone to see you..."  
  
I freeze as soon as I enter, my eyes wide. I had been told that Muraki kept his brother's head; I had even seen at a distance that night so long ago, when Hisoka had rescued Tsuzuki. But nothing... nothing had prepared me for the sight up close.  
  
Floating in a fluid, contained in a glass jar, lies the head of Saki. Wires extend from the throat; great metal coils connect it to the sides, keeping it steady. Lifeless, soulless eyes gaze at nothing, and I can feel the bile rising in my throat.  
  
"You have grown pale; are you quite well? You look as if you have seen a ghost..."  
  
I find my voice again, amazed at how weak it sounds, "Is that not what I am looking at? A ghost? This is nothing but a lifeless shell, a mockery of the existence that once flourished within! It stinks of death..."  
  
Muraki's smile deepens, as he takes off his glasses for a moment, "Ah. I have never understood, how a shinigami, a Guardian of Death, can seem so squeamish in the face of it."  
  
My pride flares like a dying candle that is breath upon. Squeamish?! Sneering, I turn on my heel, "It simply too me by surprise, though I suppose it should not have done so. I will not react in such a manner again."  
  
I hear a chuckle, and suddenly there is a strong hand on my shoulder, "Always so brave in the face of danger; always so tough. You intend to never allow me a moment's satisfaction, do you?"  
  
"I will not allow you any feelings of power; that is what you wish of me, is it not?"  
  
Another arm wraps solidly around my waist, and he pulls me close to him, silken lips on my ear, as he gives me his response, "Indeed, and I will have it, my little bird. I am master in this house, and you will come to understand this, like it or not."  
  
I wait a fraction of a second before digging my elbow into his ribs and straining to pull free. I may as well try to escape a grip of steel, and I cannot help but gasp as the hold on my waist tightens, while the other hand strokes the back of my neck.   
  
He practically drags back into the lab, closing the door to the storage section behind him. Then, he stands perfectly still, pulling me against him. The hand on my neck moves to my face, cupping my chin. With a hiss, I attempt to bite at those ivory white fingers, but he pulls them away, "Tsk tsk. What a disobedient pet..."  
  
"I am not a pet! You care nothing for pets; I still remember what you did to 003!"  
  
His laugh is black velvet, "003? The name of your owl companion, I presume? I was right in sensing you cared something for that creature..."  
  
A flare of anger rises within me, as I struggle against the hold, "He may be a lowly creature to you, but he is my friend! I will never forgive you for what you did... I will never forget!"  
  
He releases me for a split second before whirling me around and pressing me against his chest, his face mere centimeters from my own, "I hope not. Though, I do not know what you will do about it. What form of revenge do you have devised, and how will you act it out? A tantalizing puzzle indeed..."  
  
I can feel my eyes widen as he propels me to a patient's cot, forcing me on my back in a matter of instants. I try to sit up, but his hands lock onto my arms, forcing them above my head, and I can see the amusement shining in his smoky gaze, "Why do you look so angry, so frightened? Surely you trust me?"  
  
"TRUST YOU?! HA! I trust you about as much as an ant trusts an anteater!" I put the full force of my anger in those words, no longer caring for the consequences. This is my fault, my own fault for forgetting, even for a millisecond, that this is a dangerous, psychotic man. A part of me knows I deserve whatever happens to me; another part cries out in protest.   
  
With a cryptic smile, he releases me, walking over to the medicine cabinet, "You promised me a blood sample; I think now is as good a time as any to take it..."  
  
I blink, confused by this sudden change of events, "What?"  
  
He returns with a butterfly needle[6], tourniquet, and two empty vials to fill, a single brow raising, "Did I not make myself clear? I wish the blood sample from you to examine, as we agreed."  
  
Taking a few deep breaths, trying to control the rampant tempo of my heart, I growl, "You were toying with me! If you wanted a blood sample, why did you not just say so? Why the show of a few moments past?"  
  
"You are so amusing, my lovely Watari. I told you; I am master here. I can do as I please. Now, lie still like a good boy while I do this, and then you can start on your work."  
  
As he approaches me with the needle, I roll up my sleeve, then lie back, closing my eyes, "Get on with it then."   
  
[1] I have chosen to use the Japanese custom of placing the last name in front of the first. That should be sort of obvious, but notes are always nice. ^-^;  
  
[2] Thanks to my good friend Aqua Drageen for helping me decide what to feed Muraki. She is his fangirl after all and not me. The symbolism behind the lamb's innocence can be blamed for its being eaten, as well as the redness of blood for the sauce. Angel hair pasta should be obvious, ne? I don't know why I felt the need to explain it, but I do.  
  
[3] Okay... I must make a note NOT to do this ever again in the chapter. It becomes a nasty little habit, doesn't it? Anyway, the reason Watari ordered manicotti has no symbolism or anything. It's simply because it's what I like to eat occasionally and I know how to spell it.  
  
[4] Is anyone else getting the urge to have a Watari doll of your very own to dress up? XD  
  
[5] Yes... prepare for the bird analogies. There will be many throughout the story, some clichéd and some of my own. Just a warning. ^o^ GAH! THIS WILL BE THE LAST NOTE! 0  
  
[6] Well, I thought the one above would be the last note. However, I thought I might explain what a butterfly needle is, for those that do not know. It is the smallest needle used for obtaining blood; it is relatively painless. I know this because my mother is a medical technologist and works with them everyday of her life. 


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Note: As always, I would like to thank my readers and reviewers. I hope everyone has enjoyed the story so far and will continue to do so. A huge thanks to Aqua Drageen, who I must also give some credit to, as some events used in this chapter are based off of a RP session between the two of us. Perhaps it would be most accurate to say that she sort of acts like my Muraki encyclopedia; if I wish to discuss some elements I see in his character, I turn to her. She is now, and always has been, most helpful. I hope she fills luffed now. w  
  
Special Note: Tatsumi again... attempts... growing - Also a bit of MurakixTsuzuki to be enjoyed. =9 (Not to mention the teeny weeny almost microscopic TsuzukixHisoka oO) ... and now MurakixWatari. -; Also, if you guys don't like the little notes I've started to leave at the bottom, just tell me and they will vanish again.  
  
indicates POV  
  
'' indicates thoughts or telepathy  
  
Hisoka  
  
I sit by Tsuzuki's bedside, gently stroking his hair. Tatsumi, displaying his constant wisdom and fabulous bureaucratic connections, had managed to get us the day off. He has asked me to stay beside my partner and attend to him; never in all of the time I have known our Secretary has he ever suggested such a foolish thing.  
  
Of course I am staying with Tsuzuki! Where else would I go? What else would I be doing? Who else can sooth his pain, if not I?  
  
All night I have stayed by his side, calming him with more than mere words. At first, when the dark emotions raged with him, I flooded his mind with tranquil reassurances, wordless but powerful. As the nightmares rose to plague him, I quieted them, allowing him to sleep in peace.   
  
What did it matter that I had little sleep that night? As first light hits the sky, and I am certain that Tsuzuki rests easily, I allow myself to nap for a bit.  
  
Within a few minutes I jerk my head up, feeling a presence enter the room. I relax slightly when I see that it is merely Tatsumi, who immediately apologizes, "I am sorry; I did not mean to startle you."  
  
I rub my eyes, trying not to sound overly tired, "No, it's alright. I'm just a little jumpy right now, I'm afraid."  
  
"Completely understandable, given the circumstances."  
  
Nodding, I offer him a seat, which he quickly takes, "What news, Tatsumi? What are we going to do?"  
  
Pushing his glasses up, he sighs, "As of right now, there seems to be nothing we can do. We do not know what Muraki will do to Watari; we have not the faintest clue. It may be more dangerous to seek him out than to leave him where he is."  
  
"Surely you cannot believe that!" I feel my hands clench into fists, and I do not seek to control my astonishment, "With all due respect, sir, I think that we know enough about Muraki not to take any risks! We have to rescue Watari!"  
  
"But what if Watari does not want to be rescued, Hisoka?" Twin sapphire eyes close briefly before returning to me, "Muraki said that Watari was going of his own free will. If this is true, then he may not want us to come to him."  
  
"I cannot believe you can sit here spouting this... this madness! Why would Watari do such a thing? Can you even THINK of a logical reason why he would go off with a known serial killer?"  
  
"Yes. I can actually think of several. If Watari could use himself as a bargaining chip to keep any more innocents from dying, or to protect any member of the Bureau, then he would have done so without hesitation. I do not propose to cease efforts to locate him, but it must be done subtly. Or... whatever plan our scientist has could be ruined."  
  
I look towards my still sleeping partner, and then at my senior officer. It is wrong for me to second-guess him, I know. Still, in the corner of my mind, I remember the day Tsuzuki tried to kill himself and Muraki along with him, how Tatsumi was willing to allow him to do so if it was what he wanted.  
  
A muffled groan rises from the bed, as a sleepy set of eyes open, "If you two must argue... couldn't you do it somewhere away from me?"  
  
Almost at the same time I become aware of Tsuzuki's consciousness, and I bite back my gasp. While he slept, I had been unaware of his presence unless I sought it out; now his emotions and thoughts, which had been muted, now flare up in bright colors, flashing across the plane of my mind.  
  
Almost immediately he seems to realize it and the colors fade a bit, making it easier to cope, and a gentle whisper brushes me, 'Sorry; I forgot...'  
  
'It's okay, Tsuzuki...' I hasten to reassure him, probing his psyche gently, almost dreading the dark emotions I may find. Much to my relief, I find no signs of his former depression, only an icy ball of anger and fear for Watari's well being. Those are perfectly acceptable, I think, given the current circumstances, and I quickly back out the way I originally had come.  
  
My partner gives no sign that he has felt this; I have come to believe that, being more used to seeing the minds of others, I have a greater sensitivity when it comes to our link. However, that is something I shall have to ponder on later.  
  
Tatsumi gives a start at Tsuzuki's words, "Forgive me; I did not mean to disturb your rest. How are you feeling?"  
  
Laughing, Tsuzuki sits up and stretches, "As well as can be expected, given the circumstances." He then grows serious, his amethyst eyes darkening, "Tatsumi... I heard what you told Hisoka, and I have to know: do you truly think Watari will be alright?"  
  
Hesitation overtakes our Secretary, before he responds, "I do not know. I simply know that, given the circumstances, anything can happen, and I wish to minimize the risk to Watari in any way that I can. The problem is that I do not know HOW to do that."  
  
Frustration wells in those normally cool blue eyes, as he looks at his hands, "Is leaving him in the clutches of that madman the greatest risk? If he swore that he would go with Muraki and none of us would interfere, and we did, would the danger increase? I do not know which is more dangerous for him! I cannot possibly judge, with only this little information that has been given me!"  
  
I remain silent; I have no words that can comfort him. My inexperience with people has once again proven itself in this instance, and Tsuzuki seems to understand, speaking softly, "It's okay, Tatsumi. No one expects you to know how best to handle this situation. However, we have to do something, or everything is lost. If anything does happen to Watari, and we did not try to stop it, it would be far worse than anything else because we will all blame ourselves."  
  
Sighing, Tatsumi rises, "As of now, we have no orders from above on what to do or not to do. That leaves us all free reign, for at least for the time being. Whatever steps we feel necessary we can take, until told otherwise, and I intend to use this time to plan with the Goushoshins. Perhaps there will be some clues in Muraki's past crimes that will help us guess what he will do next, and hard research should at least give us his last known address..."  
  
"Are you encouraging us to pursue our own investigation then, sir?"  
  
As soon as I ask the question, he faces me, giving a slight smirk, "Let us say instead that I, like my superiors, are not telling you cannot. 'It is easier to beg forgiveness than to gain permission'[1]."  
  
As he walks out, Tsuzuki smiles towards me before giving another cat-like stretch, "I think that would be a yes, Hisoka."  
  
I cannot contain my slight annoyance, "Why not just tell us to do so in the first place? Why beat around the bush about it?"  
  
Rising, Tsuzuki gently places a hand on my shoulder, "Because he cannot order us to do it; we must choose to. Surely that is plain, right?"  
  
My eyes widen as he reaches for his coat, and I grab his arm, ignoring the initial hesitation to do so, "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"Just out for a walk. Do I have to have your permission to do that?"  
  
The dark seriousness in his voice and feelings disturb me, "I did not stay up all night to take care of you for you to go skipping off at first light! Don't think you're going to get away from me just so you can go and sink into another depressed state! I won't let you!"  
  
He smiles at me, drawing me into his arms and placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head, "Worried are you? For shame Hisoka! Pretty soon someone is going to remember that you're human under that frigid exterior of yours."  
  
I open my mouth to protest, but I do not have the opportunity. His lips close over my own, trapping me in a soft kiss. His mind overpowers my own; sweet love and care floods my soul, and soon I feel myself responding to that call, pouring forth my own affection and turning a single, almost chaste kiss into the most passionate experience of either my life or afterlife.  
  
It is too much; I break away, unable to stand the ecstasy anymore. My breath comes in pants; I can feel my face flush. He seems to be in the same state, and he murmurs, "I... I think maybe I had better head out for that walk now..."  
  
I nod my assent, licking my suddenly dry lips, "I will stay here to... to catch up on my rest... perhaps we can meet later?"  
  
Smiling ever so sweetly, he gives me one final kiss before departing, "The restaurant we first ate at then for dinner? I'll meet you there this afternoon; no standing me up for the library this time, okay? Sweet sleep, my love[2]."  
  
I initially feel saddened at his departure, but the needs of the flesh force me to lie upon the bed he has risen from. I can still feel his spirit as I touch the sheets and blankets; I can almost soak up the warmth left from his body.  
  
Shifting into a comfortable position, I force my mental shields up more from force of habit than anything else, and allow my mind to drift off to sleep.  
  
Muraki   
  
I cannot help but smile as I insert the needle into the shinigami's arm, remembering only too well the panic and fear that had risen to his eyes mere moments before.  
  
He remains passive all through the short process, watching as the two vials gradually fill with his blood. He does not say a word as I remove the needle and tourniquet, but when I press a piece of cotton gauze to the wound, a single golden brow raises, "That is not necessary, Doctor; you and I both know that the wound will heal quickly, since it is so small."  
  
I apply a little more pressure, and he rewards me with a slight gasp before I release him, "Indeed. If I wanted a large wound, I should probably cut along this vein... here..." I stroke the large, blue vein that extends from his elbow to his wrist to punctuate my words, enjoying his slight shiver.  
  
I rise from my position, slipping the two vials into my coat pocket as I do so, "Now I just need to take these to a lab for analysis..."  
  
"Why not just use the facility right here?" The tone of his voice is genuinely puzzled, as he cocks his head, "This is a laboratory; it should have the instruments you need."  
  
Unable to resist the temptation, I glance back at him, "Do you wish for me to stay so much? My my... I had no idea you so enjoyed my company..."  
  
A blush consumes his delicate features, even as flame springs forth in his eyes, "That's not it at all! I care not in the least! It is simply the most logical option before you."  
  
"Ah, but then again, the most logical thing for me to do while you flush that magnificent crimson color is to either continue to tease you mercilessly or take you straight to my bed and tie you down for my pleasure..."[3] I chuckle at his open-mouthed expression, before turning around once more, "However, if I were to do so, neither of us would get any work done. So, now I leave you. Until later this evening, my little bird."  
  
I leave before he has a chance to reply, walking out of the house and down the street. A light, warm breeze gently brushes against my face, allowing the afternoon to be quite pleasant indeed.  
  
I am extremely curious as to the results I will find with these samples, though not half as much as the shinigami they came from. I do not know precisely what it is about him that thrills me so; perhaps it is the sheer challenge he presents, both in mind and spirit.  
  
That does not even include the mystery surrounding his past life. I know from what he has told me that he is used to working in labs; this is not unusual for a scientist. However, the fact that he has been in more than one is unusual, and there is the name he let slip. 'Akira...'  
  
Who could this Akira be? A friend? A co-worker? A lover? The possibilities are simply endless; I store it, along with the other information, into my memory for later consideration. Perhaps later tonight I will be able to uncover more information from him...   
  
Practically without thinking about it, I stop into the lab at my medical practice. From force of habit I place both vials in the refrigerator and leave a note telling the nurses which test to run. I glance at the clock to check the time and marvel that it is already near five. If I had arrived only an hour earlier, this clinic would have been bustling with people. Now, five minutes until official closing time, no one.  
  
Perfectly logical, of course. Last minute filing to be done, the company lounge needing to be cleaned, and all of the tests to be completed are already in progress. Satisfied, I walk out much the same as I entered; undisturbed and unquestioned.  
  
I briefly consider returning home, but it seems a shame to do so now that Watari has the lab all to himself. I really should leave him alone long enough to at least start upon the project I desire of him.  
  
Of course, this gives me time to plot some delicious surprises for him in the coming weeks. I smile at the mere thought of some of the torments I can put him through, feeling a tingle of anticipation along my spine. What a lovely feeling... to have so much control over a human life...  
  
I continue my delightful contemplation as I walk the streets, and suddenly I become aware of a familiar shape a short distance away, one who cloaks himself in an ebony coat as dark as my own heart. 'Tsuzuki...'  
  
He stands outside a bakery, peering through one of the windows at the confectionary creations within. Surrounding him are eager children, all of whom are busily engaged in the same activity. I see him smile as he whispers something to them; they all give a cheer and run into the store.  
  
I stroll closer, taking a position previously occupied by the crowd and peer into the bakery. I watch as each child points to a sweet receives it; I alone witness my beloved paying the bill, after choosing a cake for himself.  
  
I smile, seeing the genuine joy on Tsuzuki's face. Of course, it is only too logical that the man I love would also love children. How could I give my affection to anyone less? Innocent, delightful children, young, not concerned with the passing of their all too brief lives, unaware of the aging and death that awaits them.  
  
My smile only grows as the children rush out the bakery, thanking Tsuzuki as they return to their waiting parents. My wonderful love merely smiles, taking his cake and beginning to walk down the street; he has not noticed me at all.  
  
I place a hand on his shoulder, my speaking softly, "Ah - in my search for satisfaction I have found an even greater joy. Hello Tsuzuki."  
  
He stiffens at my touch, and his hands begin to tremble, forcing him to drop his dessert onto the ground. I spin him around, suavely pushing his hair from his eyes as I give a sympathetic click of the tongue, "Aw. You dropped your cake, my china doll. Should I cheer you up?"  
  
"Like Hell! Get away from me!" He attempts to push me away, but my grip tightens just enough to hold onto him. I stare into those mesmerizing amethyst eyes, seeing the thought process behind them. The expression on his face speaks volumes, and if they were to say something, I do believe it would be along the lines of: I'm screwed.  
  
Smirking, I test my hunch, "That's what I'm hoping for, Tsuzuki..."  
  
He blushes a deep scarlet, confirming my beliefs as he snarls, "Over my dead body..."  
  
I lower my voice to a sensuous whisper, "Now now, doll. I would have the body... but nothing much else then, would I? That's only half the fun."  
  
"I am-not- a doll!" He pushes my chest again, this time with enough force to succeed in breaking free and takes a step back. However, as he does so he slips on the remains of the cake, hitting the pavement hard enough to give a small cry of pain.[4]  
  
With only a small chuckle, I allow my eyes to rove over his prone form, "You may be correct, Tsuzuki... you seem to be more of a puppet." I kneel down and put a hand on my love's chest to hold him in place, "I pull the strings and you follow how I lead..."  
  
This answer does not please him at all, as he snaps, "No one pulls my strings... except cruel fate..."  
  
"Fate -isn't- very kind, is she? She rarely is. We must play what we are dealt, though, no?"  
  
"Or cheat..."  
  
I am forced to smile, "I never said manipulating the deck was out of the question."  
  
This makes him even angrier, the flames of rage making his face even more exquisite to gaze upon, "Except this isn't a card game. Life isn't a game, despite what you think."  
  
"Simply an analogy, Tsuzuki," I murmur, using my free hand to caress his fiery cheek. "It's nice to know you care so greatly what I think, however."  
  
He stiffens, his voice becoming cold, "What makes you think I give a damn what you think? I cannot think the way you do, Muraki; I wouldn't want to. You are a monster... more so than I have ever been."  
  
I allow my facial expression to become crueler, leaning over him to stare deep into his eyes, "Oh, but a mental hell is such a great place to be..." Quickly, before he has time to react, I kiss him fiercely, applying even more pressure to his chest to keep him from resisting.[5]  
  
He reacts much quicker than I had anticipated, biting my lip until the blood flows. I break the kiss, licking the bleeding mark as I caress Tsuzuki's face once more before rising and dusting some crumbs from my coat, "Fate has dealt you harshly, my little china puppet, but there's nothing I can do to save you either..."   
  
Puzzlement spreads across his face, even as he wipes his mouth with his sleeve to remove the blood, "What on earth are you talking about? Save me from what?"  
  
I glance down towards my love, smiling, "Nothing you need concern yourself with, Tsuzuki, since you find my mind so horrible."  
  
Panic lights his features now, and his eyes dart to the children, the little ones who were happily walking home with their parents, unaware of anything that had happened between us, "No... whatever you're planning, no. Every time I see you someone is hurt... or someone dies."  
  
"Does that plague your mind? Worry not; I can promise you that, for a time, I will not kill another to draw you to me."   
  
He rises to his feet, his voice strangely quiet, "Oh? Why is that?"  
  
"Do not sound so disappointed, my love; it is certainly not because of a lack of desire to see you," I turn away from him, placing my hands in my pockets. "It was on that condition that your friend Watari came with me, along with the promise that I would not attempt to kill that annoying boy that hangs around you. I am willing to pay so small a price... to possess such an extraordinary creature..."[6]  
  
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that? Why should I listen to you?!"  
  
I chuckle lightly, "You do not have to, of course. Yet, it would seem you really have no choice in the matter whatsoever. Of course, I could always take you to see your friend and let you ask him... but that would make the game less interesting, wouldn't it?"  
  
My only response is silence, and I smile, knowing he cannot see it, "What are you planning on doing tomorrow, Tsuzuki? Perhaps you would agree to meet me somewhere so that we could continue... our conversation."  
  
"You will bring Watari with you?"  
  
"I make no promises; the next move is yours."  
  
"What makes you think I would agree?"  
  
Even though the words are defiant, I hear the defeat in them, and I speak softly, before beginning to walk away, "As I said before, I pull the strings, and you follow suit. The trick is to know... which strings to pull. I will meet you here tomorrow. Until then... my beautiful china puppet..."  
  
Tsuzuki   
  
I stand perfectly still, hardly believing my ill luck. As if today's embarrassment was not enough, that psycho wants me to meet him again tomorrow!  
  
I can still taste the metallic saltiness of his blood on my lips, detesting it with a passion I had not felt possible. How dare he kiss me, here, in front of all of these children?! Has he no shame?![7]  
  
Even as he walks away from me, I have no intention of allowing him to do so. I have set out to find Watari; Muraki is the only one who knows where he is. I swallow back the knot of disgust in my throat, grabbing his arm, "Wait..."  
  
He turns to face me, those silver eyes glinting as he smiles, "Yes, Tsuzuki?"  
  
"I want to know where Watari is; I want him back. What do I have to do to secure his freedom?"  
  
I cannot stop the blush that spreads across my face as his gaze slides down my body, and he gives a light chuckle, "You still speak as though I hold him prisoner; this is not so. As I have told you, we have a business agreement. I shall keep my end of the bargain, and he will complete his job. Only then will he be released."  
  
He cocks his head, his voice smooth with only a trace of mockery, "Is it so hard to accept that your friend came willingly with me, doll? Not everyone finds me as horribly unpleasant as you do..."  
  
I can feel anger claim my heart, and I hiss, "Silence! Watari would not go with you because of your charming personality; I still have trouble believing he went with you at all!"  
  
"Whether you choose to believe it or not is irrelevant; sometimes the truth is simply too painful to truly see. I understand this and accept your disbelief. However," here his voice takes a silken tone, his metallic eyes narrowing, "if you stay by me much longer, I may very well be tempted to take you home this minute, my defiant little puppet. I am sure Watari would not appreciate that..."  
  
"You can't pull that crap with me Muraki; I know you don't give a damn about anyone but yourself."  
  
For a moment, one brief, chilling moment, I imagine that I see pain flash in those silvery eyes. However, I am torn away from them by the sounds of a lady crying, "YUMI! WATCH OUT!"  
  
Horrified, I turn to see a little girl, no older than six or seven, halfway across the street. She looks so happy... so radiant. But all that comes to an end when a car collides with her, knocking her to the pavement.  
  
The same lady, her mother I presume, gives a blood-curdling scream before dashing into the street after her child. The driver is already out of the vehicle, shaking from head to toe as he kneels beside the motionless girl.  
  
Forgetting about Muraki, I rush to the scene. Immediately I see that the child has a tremendous head wound, her blood staining the pavement. The mother is quickly becoming hysterical, sobbing and throwing herself over the body while the unfortunate driver looks on in dismay, though he gives a shout, "A doctor! Someone get a doctor!"  
  
A deep, all too familiar voice appears behind my shoulder, "I am a physician... please allow me to have a look at her."  
  
Brushing past me, Muraki kneels beside the child. In one swift movement, he removes his long, white coat, wrapping it around her bleeding skull in place of a bandage. Whenever the mother resists his efforts to push her away, he gives a growl, "Tsuzuki... will you please take this woman and keep her out of my way so that I can do my job?"  
  
It is not so much a question as a command, and I am a little surprised to find myself obeying him so easily. The mother, exhausted from her hysteria, does not offer much resistance, practically falling into my arms.  
  
Muraki then turns his eyes to the driver, "I have a clinic nearby; help me carry her there."  
  
The man nods, scooping the girl into his arms, as Muraki continues to apply pressure to the wound. As they begin to move down the street, I follow, leading the worried mother.  
  
When we reach the clinic, they are just about to close. Clearly in his element, my nemesis snaps a few orders, which the remaining staff hastily enact. A bed with wheels is swiftly brought out, and as soon as the girl is rested upon it, Muraki speaks to me again, "Tsuzuki, you will stay with the mother. I will come back as soon as I have something to tell her..."  
  
Any brief flash of defiance that rises within me dies at the sight of the distraught mother, and I nod gloomily, knowing I will remain.  
  
Time stills to that indescribable paradox of speeds. My perception of the passing moments makes them feel as hours, yet when I look at my watch, I see that a mere fifteen minutes have passed.  
  
I have found out, in the brief span of time, that the mother's name is Sakura[8] and that Yumi is her only child. I learn how Sakura works all day long as a seamstress in order to earn enough to support her beloved daughter; her husband has been dead for almost a year.  
  
I am a bit puzzled, though not displeased, by the continued presence of the driver, who comes to sit next to the two of us. In another brief span I discover that he is Doctor Sanami Shido, a veterinarian who shares his practice with his sister. He takes the day shift, while she works nights.[9]  
  
The mood of the room is tense, and it seems only too soon before Muraki returns, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. I would swear that, when he sighs, there is a sadness there... a grief that I have never seen in him before, "I regret to say that, despite our best efforts... the little girl has died..."   
  
I remember the injury only too well, and I know that it is only too possible that the little girl died from it. Still, it does not make her passing any easier, and I allow myself a moment of brief for this child that I known so very briefly.  
  
Dr. Shido buries his head in hands before rising, walking over to Yumi's mother, "Ms. Sakura... I-"  
  
She hisses, striking him across the face, "GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED MY YUMI!"  
  
He sighs, closing his hazel eyes, "I am so sorry, miss... you have no idea how much. I never saw your little girl until it was too late. I will, of course, pay for the funeral services and the medical bill... although I know it is not enough..."  
  
"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT IT'S NOT ENOUGH! I WANT MY BABY BACK; I WANT MY YUMI!" Once more breaking down into tears, I barely catch the mother as she faints, completely drained. The grief on Shido's face is overwhelming; but he manages to sound calm as he turns to me, "If you will put her in my car, I will find out where she lives and take her home. Dr. Muraki, I will call a funeral parlor immediately to make arrangements. Until then, may the body stay here? I... I don't think that her mother should see her..."  
  
Muraki speaks softly, "Of course; nothing will happen to her over the span of a single night. The nurses have already begun preparations, since we would hate to put her in a morgue and send her mother for her there. The body can be picked up from here tomorrow. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me... I really must be on my way home."  
  
He brushes past us, appearing, as he always does at first glance, a colorless angel. Only, this time, as he walks away, his image is marred by the ruby red blood that stains his garments; unlike other times, I know that this blood was shed in trying to preserve life instead of taking it.  
  
I turn to Shido Sanami, bowing slightly, "Do you need me anymore? I mean... I can come back tomorrow with you when you take the body, if you like, and I'd like to attend the funeral."  
  
He smiles sadly, "Yes... thank you. You're kindness is appreciated; I will be sure to give you the schedule as soon as I can. I shall see you tomorrow morning then?"  
  
I nod, "Goodbye, Shido. Take good care of Sakura."  
  
After making sure he gets the unconscious woman into the car safely, I sprint after Muraki, not even really knowing why I do so. Something in his manner had expressed sadness; I had an uncontrollable urge to know why. He felt sorrow for this little girl... why had he not felt sorrow for other victims? It drives me mad to try and reason it out, yet I know that there most BE a reason!  
  
"Oi, Muraki! Wait!" I cry out to him, managing to catch his attention when he is not too far away.  
  
A smile immediately rises to his face, one that I have seen before, "Tsuzuki, I was not planning on seeing you again until tomorrow evening. Surely you do not wish to accompany me home? I doubt you would like the end result of such an encounter."  
  
I do not let his teasing words distract me, and I immediately put forth my question, "That girl... you tried to save her. You feel for her in a way I have never seen you feel before; you show compassion to her that you have never shown anyone. Why? What is it about this case that makes it so different?"  
  
Muraki's silver eyes close briefly, as he chuckles, "Is that what you have tracked me down for, Tsuzuki? Is that all?"  
  
"Yes..."  
  
"Then, I can only think of one way to answer you. The reason this case is different is... that I did not have the joy of killing her myself. Nothing more... nothing less..."[10]  
  
Watari  
  
It is strange how having a task before you can make your life so much easier. Take me, for example. I have entered into a bargain with a psychotic killer, one who believes that my blood holds some sort of power to bring life to what has none. I have placed myself totally within his hands, and am I worried?  
  
Not in the least! I am far too busy to allow feelings of worry to overtake my heart! I have to design an entire human body, minus the head, in machinery? It is certainly an interesting task!  
  
It distracts me from the unpleasant situation I find myself in, at the very least. I begin my project with the designing stage; it is amazing how easy it is when one has a pretty good model to base off of. I think that the prototype will meet with Muraki's approval, though I could not explain to anyone why. Perhaps it is because I have, through electricity and circuitry, created a way for the machine to feel pain when connected to the brain; perhaps it is because I have found a way to make it bleed convincingly when cut or stabbed.  
  
Of course, when I draw this thing, it will become alive. Well, to be more accurate, it will become real; only with the head attached to it can it be alive. Even then, I am not too sure. So what if the head once more regains consciousness? Saki, the one that Muraki seeks revenge from so desperately has died and passed on, unless some way was found to prevent him from doing so. Still, perhaps just simulating life will be enough for Muraki. I do not know enough about him to be sure.  
  
Some might find it strange that I throw myself so much into the project, but really it is not that much of a surprise. Even when I was alive, I did such things. The important thing is to think of the project. Don't ask why your employers are having you design it; never question whether or not it is ethical. No... never wonder about that at all. Some projects you can't; sometimes you know only too well the dangers of that which you create, although you are never sure if that is what it is going to be used for. Every scientist knew that as a tool of the trade, most everyone, 'But not Akira...'  
  
No. I won't think about Akira. I blurted his name out in front of Muraki today, and I know that he will try to figure out what it all means. I won't tell him; I'll block it from my mind.  
  
'I sure wish I had 003; he always manages to keep my mind occupied...' Even as I think the words, I know it is a foolish hope. I do not know when I will again see my feathered companion; I do not know how long it will to take me to work my way through this business I have wrapped myself in. Even then it is not certain. I had not made any arrangements with Muraki about my release; he may choose to kill me on the spot. If anyone would know how, it would be he.  
  
Then, the cynical part of my mind takes over, 'Oh no... there are things worse than death, and THOSE are what Muraki would know... and inflict...'  
  
As if in answer to my thoughts, I hear the door open and close, and I know that the beast has returned to his lair. Instead of waiting for him to come to me, I take the initiative to go to him. By doing so, I feel that I have taken away some of the power he holds over me; I will not cower in fear waiting when I can appear brave by meeting him.  
  
"Is that you, Muraki? I have some of the first basic design specs; I think you'll like what you see," I call out, making my way from the lab to the living area.  
  
As soon as I lay eyes upon him, I wish I had stayed in the lab. Crimson stains his white garments; I know it to be blood. I feel my mouth drop, and fear pulses through my veins. Has another innocent been killed while I stayed here?  
  
The fear is replaced by anger spurred by guilt, and I snap, "You had better have a good explanation as for why that blood is all over you; we had an agreement! You were not to kill anyone while I stayed here!"  
  
His silver eyes narrow as he turns to face me, and his voice is low, "You think me a fool? Even if I were to break that agreement, which I have not, I would never come home to you covered in the blood of my victim; I would be sure to be clean and tidy when I walked through the door so as not to arouse your suspicions. You know me better than that, my little bird."  
  
I know that what he says is true, but I stand firm, "I'm still waiting for an explanation."  
  
He drapes his coat, the only piece of his clothing still pure, over a chair, walking towards me. There is a coldness in his eyes, an icy quality that becomes more apparent with every step, and I find myself trying to appear unconcerned as I stand in the wake of it.  
  
The silver-haired man draws close to me, perhaps a hands width away. I know that he wants me to appear scared or alarmed; I allow none of my emotions to come forth. Just as I think I have finally mastered my calm, his hand darts forward, grasping the collar of my shirt to pull me against him.  
  
I cannot contain a gasp of surprise, as his other hand slides around my waist. I can feel the warmth of his body through the cloth, and I know that my clothes, when I am released will be stained with blood. Muraki hisses, "I do not owe you an explanation; I do not owe you anything. You entered into this arrangement knowing the possible consequences. Even if this was the blood of someone I killed, and not the blood of a patient I tried to save, it would make no difference. You are in the hands of a known murderer, my sweet Watari; the blood I have spilt stains my soul. Why does this physical blood alone disturb you?"  
  
The intensity of his voice unnerves me; I have never heard him stray so far from his calm, soft-voiced manner. His silvery eyes blaze, but his voice lowers, as he brushes his lips against mine, "I was first drawn to you by blood, little bird. Even now I yearn to spill it, to taste it. I have an insatiable thirst for blood; I love to watch it as it drips upon the pavement or gleams in the moonlight. I love most of all when it coats the flesh of a victim, for then it is perfection, a mixture of ruby and ivory that can never be appreciated by others. Yet, I am not an animal; I can live without this pleasure, as I have proven by striking the bargain with you."  
  
The arm around my waist tightens, and he removes the hand from my collar to slide onto my back, causing me to shiver. His chuckle is light, but so cold, "You said yourself when this began that you had entered a devil's bargain, and you grow frightened at the first sign that the bargain was broken. Trust me..."  
  
I jerk my head away, hoping that my unease is covered by my sarcasm, "Oh yes, trust you. Trust a man who openly admits that he has a lust for blood. Trust a known killer who confesses readily to his crimes. Trust a known rapist who can't seem to keep his hands off me? Oh yes, Muraki, I do have so many reasons to trust you!"  
  
I know immediately that I have said the wrong thing; his face loses all emotions, as he sneers, "Trust a man who always takes responsibility for his actions, no matter what they may be. Trust a man who, no matter what his other crimes, has never lied. Trust a man who is honest and open with his desires and has the strength to make them a reality. That is all I ask of you[11], and if you cannot do that, then you will have a far harder time in this partnership than I. Now, that is the end of the discussion. The least you can do is kiss and make up..."  
  
I try to protest, but his mouth crushes mine, trapping me into the kiss. His lips are soft and warm, a combination I had not expected from someone so cold, and his tongue slides easily into my mouth to stroke my own. To my surprise, I find myself almost enjoying the sensation... almost.  
  
I bite on the offending tongue, attempting to push the other man away even as I do so. His grip remains strong, but the tongue withdraws, and the kiss breaks soon after. He smiles at me, whispering, "That's right, little bird; fight against me. It makes it sweeter in the end, to know that I took the strength from you..."  
  
My heart rate increases as he lowers his head, laying kisses on my neck, and he purrs, "What's your first name, Watari? You know mine, I am sure, from your files, but I do not know yours. Tell it to me."  
  
It is a seemingly innocent question, and I see no harm in answering it, "Yutaka..."  
  
I give a mental curse; why did my voice have to come out so weak and breathless? Muraki's ministrations continue, though he lifts his head to murmur, "Yutaka... rich you are indeed, in charm, beauty, and intellect. Warm in both body and spirit; yes... the name suits you well..." [12]  
  
I try to fight the urge to relax into this madman's hold, but I feel my body doing it. I feel the warmth of pleasure flood my being as he continues to tease me, creating a small flush on my face, "M-Muraki..."  
  
Even as I moan he releases me, causing me to fall to the cold, wooden floor of the living area. I feel the heat of my face as I sit there, stunned into silence as the sudden rush of pleasure fades away, leaving behind a mixture of confusion as to why it ended and shame that I felt such pleasure in the first place.  
  
Muraki looks down at me, his silver eyes tearing into my soul before he turns away, "Take that as an example of light punishment for questioning and insulting me in my own house; your next penalty will be greater. Now... show me those designs you were speaking of earlier..."  
  
I am left speechless for a few moments, before I rise. I try to block the scene from my mind, as I enter the room, but I cannot help but think to myself, 'I should not have been surprised; what else would he use as punishment? Dear Gods... what have I gotten myself into...'  
  
[1] I really had no intention of continuing with these notes, but this one needs to be here. This quote comes from the marvelous writer, Mercedes Lackey. I do not claim it. w  
  
[2] Disgustingly sweet? It's what I say to my friends when I tell them good night. So... yeah... n-n; Well... the 'sweet sleep' bit anyway. P  
  
[3] A little -blunt- there isn't he? o.o (Yes, sometimes what comes out surprises even me XP)  
  
[4] Smooth Tsuzuki... smooth as sandpaper. (Sandpaper quote comes from ChibiGingi o)  
  
[5] Yes. In the middle of the sidewalk. In front of everyone. Muraki hath no shame. XP But apparently... no one noticed.   
  
[6] Anyone ever read or seen 'Petshop of Horrors'? If yes... does Muraki remind you at all of Count D? Just a random connection... probably when I put 'extraordinary creature'. So maybe it's just my wacky brain.  
  
[7] Why no, he doesn't. Didn't Tsuzuki-chan read note 5? =3 Okay... now I'm just getting ridiculous.  
  
[8] Yes, I know it is a cheap way to get out of choosing a name, but she is unimportant so... blah! XP  
  
[9] Muhahaha... yay for re-drawing in minor characters. -V  
  
[10] What? You didn't expect for him to say anything NICE did you?  
  
[11] This is not meant to be a Phantom of the Opera reference, but it's creepy if you're listening to that song while you read it because it just pops up at you! (This note written after a re-read while listening to said song. XD)  
  
[12] According to my handy dandy Japanese-English dictionary (published by Random House) Yutaka means "rich". According to the kanji (and my friend Kara Angitia), Yutaka means "warm". So... I just sort of used both. 0 


End file.
